


Duet

by stellarose



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Orchestra, Awkward Ava Sharpe, Endgame Sara Lance/Ava Sharpe, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Fluff, Human Gideon (DC's Legends of Tomorrow), Legends of Tomorrow Team are Family, Light Angst, Slow Burn, Theatre, mentioned supercorp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27324655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarose/pseuds/stellarose
Summary: Sara Lance, stage manager at the Metropolis Arts Centre is used to running her house a certain way. When a new guest conductor Ava Sharpe joins the team, everyone wonders if she's really the right fit, until much to their surprise, she begins to win them around.
Relationships: Sara Lance/Ava Sharpe
Comments: 121
Kudos: 218





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The Metropolis Arts Centre is based on my city's theatre precinct, where I have been fortunate to attend a number of shows, as well as spend a bit of time behind the scenes. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are much appreciated :)

The Metropolis Arts Centre occupied a whole block in the middle of the city. The complex included four theatres, seven restaurants, three bars, assorted rehearsal studios for the Metropolis Ballet Company, Metropolis Opera, Metropolis Symphony Orchestra, Metropolis Theatre Company, and Metropolis Opera and Ballet Orchestra, plus several floors of offices for the administrative, artistic, financial, marketing, and production staff for the various companies who called the Arts Centre home, a public forecourt, large box office, 12 private function rooms of varying sizes, and a vast labyrinth of dressing rooms below ground level.

“We were here til what, half-ten last night?” Charlie grumbled as she and Sara stepped out of the elevator into the long corridor of level two, where the two orchestras had their offices. On the walls hung framed posters from concerts over the years, dating all the way back to the founding of the Metropolis Symphony Orchestra in 1902, long before their current premises was even dreamt of. “I’m not complaining about the late nights, or three-act ballets or anything like that. I’m complaining about Rip being a git on purpose and scheduling 9am production meetings the following day. There is no reason this couldn’t be at ten. Or even eleven!”

“You’re preaching to the converted, Charlie,” Sara said, sipping her coffee, grateful to be inside out of the bitter January winds, though the heating was up particularly high, and wearing a thick coat and drinking a hot drink, Sara was getting quite warm indeed. “The sooner we can shove Rip on a plane and send him back across the pond, the better.”

“What do you think the ring-in will be like?” Charlie asked.

“I have no idea,” Sara said. “Apparently Rip was her mentor back in the day, whatever that means for conductors. Do you reckon that means Rip taught her how to stick a baton right up her - ”

“Oh my gosh, why are we here so early?” Zari complained, falling in to step with Sara and Charlie, with her take-away coffee in her glittery rose-gold reusable coffee cup.

“How you do look so… like you didn’t just roll out of bed?” Charlie asked, looking Zari up and down. Zari’s hair and make-up were immaculate as ever, despite the late night, early start and blustery weather.

“Skill,” Zari said with a smirk. Zari was the head milliner, her job extending beyond hats and assorted headpieces to all include overseeing all hair and wigs. There were often jokes among the performers and other members of crew that Zari was in charge of everything from the neck-up, whereas Charlie, as wardrobe mistress, was in charge of everything from the neck down. The working relationship between the two was exemplary, though the exact nature of their relationship outside of work was the topic of many a rumour which circulated behind the scenes.

“Hello friends,” Ray said, joining the women. Tall, ever-cheerful Ray was the theatre’s chief engineer, in charge of all electrical departments, including lighting, sound, and any mechanised props. There wasn’t a sound quality issue he didn’t know how to fix, or a lighting problem he couldn’t solve with his usual joyous disposition, though that did occasionally get on the nerves of some of the others, especially at the end of a long day.

“Hey, Ray,” Sara said. “All right, let’s see what we’ve got as Rip’s replacement.”

They entered the meeting room where most of the usual production meeting team were already gathered, and made their way to their usual seats. The new conductor was being introduced by Rip to Gideon, Artist Director of the Metropolis Ballet Company. Sara looked the new conductor up and down. She was wearing a black pantsuit and a crisp white business shirt, with her in a tight bun. If she was dressed in ath-leisure wear or a cute top and flowing skirt, she could be mistaken for a ballerina, Sara thought, but dressed how she was, the new woman looked more like she belonged in government than the theatre.

“Oh, I see the crew has finally managed to arrive,” Rip said, noticing Sara, Charlie, Zari and Ray down the far end of the table. He looked at his watch in an act to make it extra clear he didn’t approve of their tardiness, despite being none of their bosses. “This is Ava Sharpe, who will be the guest conductor for next six months while I take up various guest conducting roles in Europe, and - ”

“Sorry, Rip, where about was it again that you got a guest-gig?” Charlie asked, knowing full well as Rip had hardly shut-up about it for the past couple of months.

“First I am conducing the Opéra National de Lyon’s production of _Lakmé,_ before venturing to north to conduct the Opéra de Dijon in Rameau’s _Castor et Pollux_ before heading back to by native land to finish the season at the English National Ballet,” Rip said, always happy to talk about himself.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Charlie said. “Nice to know he’s sounding as pretentious as possible,” she muttered with a smirk, just loud enough for her friends to hear, and Rip to suspect he was being mocked.

“Ava, this is the crew,” Rip said, as though he was introducing Ava to a bunch of delinquents. “Ray Palmer is the chief engineer, he makes sure we sound our best and is very capable. Zari is the chief milliner.”

“You can just say she’d Head Girl, Rip,” Charlie smirked, running her tongue along her teeth.

“Better than hand-maiden,” Zari retorted, causing Sara, Ray and several of the others to laugh, while Rip looked embarrassed and Ava scowled.

“Charlie is the wardrobe mistress, and Sara Lance is stage manager,” Rip said, quickly finishing introductions.

“Nice to meet you,” Ava said in a tone that could start the process of freezing hell.

Sara had to look away but was sure Ava caught her rolling her eyes.

“So Rip has taught her where to shove a baton, then,” Ray whispered, causing Charlie to almost choke on her coffee and Sara had to bite her tongue to stop herself from laughing.

Rip managed to dominate the production meeting as usual, telling everyone pretty much nothing they didn’t already know. He spoke more about the current run of the opera _Faust_ which was closing in two days time, and the current run of _Swan Lake_ which had opened the week prior and would be Rip’s final production with the Metropolis Opera and Ballet orchestra for the time being. Ava would be shadowing Rip until he left. He only twice mentioned the upcoming production of _Chess_ which would be Ava’s first conducting role at the Metropolis Arts Centre, which was what everyone really wanted to hear about. The opera company had started rehearsals, and the orchestra would the following week, but no further information was provided.

Ava hardly spoke during the meeting, and glared at the crew whenever any of them spoke. Once the meeting was done, she followed Rip out without even acknowledging anyone other than those who Rip did.

“What a bitch,” said a voice behind Sara.

Sara turned to see Gideon standing there, her arms folded. “My thoughts exactly,” Sara said. “Looks like Rip is replacing himself with his lady-equivalent.”

“She must be fairly skilled though,” Ray said, trying to think the best of the uptight new conductor. “As a conductor. Otherwise she wouldn’t have got the role.”

“She got the role because Rip knows her, and he’s got Bennett and the other managers upstairs in his pocket,” Sara said, standing up.

“You might be right, and I doubt she’s done her homework, because I don’t think she knows who I am,” Gideon said. “I hate to be that person to say ‘do you know who I am?’, but I honestly don’t think she knows.” Gideon had danced at the Royal Ballet for years, before taking a two-year guest principal position at the Metropolis Ballet Company. She’d returned to London for her final season as a principal dancer before retiring from the stage and moving back to Metropolis as a répétiteur for the MBC. After two seasons showing excellent administrative and technical skills, as well as her artistic abilities, Gideon was promoted to Artist Director, while still dancing character roles, including as one of the alternating Queen Mothers in the current run of _Swan Lake_.

“I’ve danced for the Queen, who I have met, more than once. I have a CBE. And that woman has no idea who I am.”

“Maybe once Rip leaves we’ll be able to knock some sense into her,” Charlie suggested. She’d began her apprenticeship in costume at the Royal Opera House before Gideon had left to dance in Metropolis, and could remember how kind and helpful the prima ballerina had been to the awkward apprentice who was trying desperately not to poke her with pins when fitting a tutu.

“Rip also knows how to make a complete nuisance of himself,” Gideon said, looking at the time. “Now I’ve missed half of morning classes. He knows I hate that, especially when we have a show on. I’ll see you all later on.”

Gideon glided out of the meeting room, while the crew lingered. They didn’t need to be anywhere now for hours, with no matinee or rehearsals on the Main Stage to fill the time.

“So, what now?” Sara asked with a stretch.

“Guess I’ll go check if anyone left any costumes on the repairs rack last night,” Charlie said. “After a three-act ballet, I’d say that everyone has at least one item to be repaired, if not more. Should keep me and the dressers when they get here later busy.”

“I’ll have morning tea with Nora,” Ray said with a smile. “Then I have some OH&S stuff to do, then I’ll have lunch with Nora.” Ray’s wife Nora was head of theatre’s Education and Outreach program.

“Lucky Nora,” said Charlie with a raise of her eyebrows.

“I’m going home,” said Zari, who was fortunate to live only fifteen minutes away from the theatre in a nice apartment building with her brother Behrad, who was an operations assistant for the Opera and Ballet Orchestra, and their rent was heavily subsided by their parents. “If I don’t wake Behrad up, he’ll sleep through the day. I’ll see you all later.”

Ray and Zari made their way towards the offices and exit, while Sara and Charlie went in the opposite direction, towards the elevator to take them three floors below ground to the stage level.

“Do you think she’s only like that because she’s new?” Sara asked as they waited for the elevator.

“Stuck up and kinda bitchy? Don’t know,” Charlie said. “She managed to rub Gideon the wrong way on their first meeting. Gideon’s pretty tolerant, so I bet Rip said something stupid to Ava about her beforehand. But she did choose to dress like that, so who knows?”

“True,” Sara said as the elevator arrived. She scanned her ID pass and selected the correct floor as the doors closed.

“At least Rip acknowledges that we exist, even if he doesn’t really like it. Ava hardly looked at us, and when she did, her gaze could cut ice.”

“Why was she dressed in a poly-cotton pantsuit anyway?” Sara asked, curiously unable to get the new conductor out of her mind. “Maybe that was the problem.”

Charlie laughed. “She looked more like a head teacher than a conductor. One from a super-strict posh public school too.”

The elevator stopped and they stepped out into the rabbit warren of corridors which made up the backstage area. Each of the four theatres had a colour which its associated dressing rooms and auxiliary spaces were accented with. On the wall directly opposite were four striped lines, the purple and red lines leading to the left towards the 2,200 seat Main Stage and the intimate 350 seat MetroStudio, while the aqua and gold lines led right towards the grand 2,100 seat Concert Hall and the 860 seat Recital Theatre. Sara and Charlie made a left towards the Main Stage and it’s surrounds, which had effectively become their second home.

Charlie headed towards the dressing rooms, to see what damage the performers had managed to cause to their costumes the night before, while Sara opened unlocked and opened the heavy door to the stage. She flicked on the fluorescent lights which illuminated the stage and all the backstage stage area in practical white light. The immediate backstage area was almost four times the size of the substantial Main Stage stage. Sara walked over to her desk, where everything was just as she had left it less than twelve hours ago, including her scripts filled with markings for the various light, sound, prop, set, performer and curtain cues.

Sara walked out onto the stage, right to the centre and looked out over the auditorium. It was completely dark, with only the emergency exit lights above the doors showing how far back the rows of seating over the three levels went. The light from the stage cast shadows over the pit and the first couple of rows of the stalls, and reflected off a few shiny surfaces, but otherwise, the rest of the house was in complete darkness. Sara threw open her arms and beamed.

…

“Through these doors is the stage,” Rip said as he and Ava approached the heavy black doors which had a “KEEP QUIET” sign blu-tacked onto them. “This is prompt-side,” he said, pleasantly surprised to find that the door was unlocked. “The usual props, sound cases, racks for quick changes, etc.”

Ava stuck her foot in the door to keep it from closing and had a quick look at the vast side-stage space, with a couple of racks full of costumes pushed to the side, two long a prop tables, multiple sound boxes, various large set-pieces including a white rotunda with fake vines, and the soaring ceiling, double the height of the stage which the audience saw, where the lighting and sound equipment hung, joined by the various sets hanging from the flies.

“The lights are on, so one of the stage hands must be home. Oh, well, we’ll leave them to it,” Rip said, stepping away.

A movement caught Ava’s eye, and through the wings she could see stage manager Sara Lance in the centre of the stage, apparently presenting herself to the empty auditorium the way an overenthusiastic prince in a ballet would to a princess who’s hand in marriage he was after. “They’re all insane,” Ava muttered to herself, following Rip and letting the door close with a soft _thud_ behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is crazy right now, and it's nerve-wracking times (even for those of us far away from the US), so for those in need of a little escapism, here's the next chapter.

“I couldn’t deal with it any longer,” Zari said, sitting down at the table in the staff cafeteria between Sara and Charlie. “So I googled her.”

“What? Googled who?” Charlie asked with a mouth full of burrito.

“Ava?” Sara asked.

“Ava,” Zari confirmed. Ava had been haunting the corridors of the Metropolis Arts Centre for over a week, shadowing Rip’s every move, and paying almost no attention to any of the crew, unless it meant getting out of someone’s way when they were coming through pushing a rack full of costumes or a large sound case. She didn’t dine in the staff cafeteria, and even though she sat in the pit during performances, the crew weren’t convinced she was ingratiating herself with the orchestra either.

“Well? Don’t leave us hanging. What did you find?” Sara asked, stealing one of Zari’s chips.

“Nothing, really,” Zari said, very matter-of-fact, satisfied with the confused and frustrated looks of Sara and Charlie’s faces.

“Nothing?”

“No, not ‘nothing’ nothing, just nothing very interesting.”

“What was remotely interesting, then?” Sara asked. She had been very tempted to look Ava up online herself, but for some reason it felt like intruding, even though she did this for almost every guest actor, dancer or musician who came to the Arts Centre.

“I read a bunch of bios in online programs from previous companies she’s guest-conducted at,” Zari said. “As far as I can tell, she hasn’t had a permanent position, and has only conducted in the States and Canada. She did work in Hollywood for a while doing recordings for b-grade films, but from what I could find, she has no pit experience.”

“What, she’s never conducted a pit orchestra?” Charlie asked.

“There are a couple of gaps,” Zari explained, “As no one puts everything in their bio, but surely you would put any shows at an opera house, or even musicals?”

“I guess you wouldn’t necessarily put pit work on an concert orchestra bio, unless it was Broadway or The Met or here. Maybe she did a couple shows in LA?” Charlie suggested.

“Maybe,” Sara said. “But she doesn’t exactly strike me as the stage-musical conductor-type.”

“Well, it’s her first gig here so she’s gunna have to be, even dressed the way she is,” Charlie said. The Metropolis Opera Company performed one musical a year, usually in the late winter, as a chance to showcase some of their younger performers. _Chess_ was giving rising stars Barry Allen, Sam Arias and Kara Danvers a chance to take the leading roles. In the classical operas such roles were usually reserved for their older counterparts, those three usually having minor parts or cast as understudies.

“She is still wearing that pantsuit and office shirt. Sure, Rip gets around in a shirt and tie, but somehow he seems less congress-librarian, and more high-school music teacher.”

“Oh well,” Sara said, “By this time next week, Rip will be back in the UK and we’ll be getting ready for opening night of _Chess._ ”

“Rehearsals are sure going to be something,” Charlie said, finishing her burrito.

“Oh my gosh you guys should have heard rehearsals just now, woah!” Behrad said loud enough for the whole canteen to hear, joining the others at the table.

“B, if you need money for dinner…” Zari sighed.

“Umm, maybe? But the orchestra just finished first full run-through with Conductor Sharpe, and wow. They sounded amazing.”

“You’re calling her ‘Conductor Sharpe’?”

“I’m sure there’s a flat joke in here somewhere,” Charlie said, as much to herself as the others. “When you have nominal determination and all that…”

“Well, that’s good the rehearsal went well,” Zari said, never wanting to dampen Behrad’s enthusiasm.

“No, Rip’s rehearsals go ‘well’,” Behrad said. “This was amazing. And it was a musical score without the singing and they always sounds weird. I think they’re rehearsing with the soloists tomorrow? Or maybe it’s the chorus?”

“It’s literally your job to know which it is,” Zari said.

“What did Rip think?” Sara asked.

“Don’t know,” Behrad said. “He just sat up the back and spent most of the time on his phone like he wasn’t even there. But you need to see Ava conducting. She… wow. I’d say she lets her hair down when she gets a baton, but she doesn’t literally only metaphorically, and…”

“Behrad, go and get something to eat,” Zari said, handing him her purse. “You’re babbling.”

“Oh, yeah, great thanks,” Behrad said, taking Zari’s purse heading over to join the short queue for the food. Most of those in the queue were members of the Opera and Ballet Orchestra, having finished their rehearsals and now having a break before the evening show, just like the crew. The heavily discounted prices at the staff cafeteria made it a popular place, especially as the meals the sort of food people would make and eat at home, or a simplified version of what was being served at the Forecourt Restaurant. Every night there was three different options, and the weekly menus were put up around the rabbit-warren backstage for all the orchestra, cast and crew to see.

“The orchestra do enjoy a musical,” Charlie said, looking at the excited musicians. “They’re always a lot of fun.”

“But the orchestra are always good,” Sara said. “They’re professionals. Sounding good is their whole profession.”

“Oh, Sara, hi,” Gary from violas said with a huge, goofy grin, almost tipping his tray of food onto Zari.

“What is it, Gary?” Sara asked as Zari slid closer to Charlie to avoid a lap-full of mashed potato and sticky chicken wings.

“Rehearsal this afternoon was amazing!” Gary said, straightening his grasp on his tray while still beaming at Sara. “Obviously Ms Sharpe has been around here for a week now, but it was her first time conducting us, and everyone had shivers. The sound we created was amazing.”

“That’s great,” Sara said, forcing a smile and catching Charlie’s eye. Charlie gave a small shrug. “You guys must be very happy. First rehearsals all together can be a bit… well, they don’t always go so great.”

“They don’t,” Gary confessed. “Rehearsing by yourself in your living room is completely different to working with forty or so others. But Ms Sharpe is some sort of musical magician! First rehearsal sounding like that… we’re only going to get better!”

“That’s great, Gary,” Sara repeated, hoping Gary would go and sit with his muso friends. “Well, I’m going to head back to the theatre. Some of the dancers might already be around for tonight’s show.”

“I’m done too,” Charlie said, standing up.

“Oh, Gary, man, rehearsal nailed it, man!” Behrad said, taking Charlie’s seat while Gary took Behrad’s enthusiasm as his queue to join the Tarazi siblings.

“I was just saying how good Ms Sharpe is.”

“Oh, I should have taken some photos! Actually video. Maybe next time,” Behrad said.

“Behrad. Money,” Zari said, holding out her hand.

“We’ll see you later,” Sara said as Behrad patted all his pockets before finding the one with Zari’s purse.

“Zari is going to be so annoyed we left her with the boys,” Charlie said, scanning her pass to open the door that looked like another wall panel from this side, but which opened into the backstage area.

“We will hear all about it later on,” Sara said, closing the door behind them. Hidden doors like this always made their workplace feel even more magical.

“Or now,” Charlie said as her phone pinged. She looked at the message and chuckled. “Ok, I’m gunna go hide in the costumes before the Mad Hatter comes after me,” she laughed. “I’ll be round side-stage soon, yeah?”

“All right, see you soon,” Sara said, continuing straight down the corridor while Charlie took a right towards the dressing rooms.

“Oi, Sara?”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, and did I tell you I’m going to the Midvale warehouse tomorrow?” Charlie called down to the corridor, poking her head back around to see Sara. The Metropolis Arts Centre owned a large warehouse in the town of Midvale, not far outside of the city, where they stored all the costumes for the opera and ballet productions, and had the country’s premier costume workshop, where old costumes were refitted and remade, and new ones were created.

“What time will you be back here?” Sara called.

“Half-four hopefully? We’re getting the _Coppélia_ costumes out of storage, and I want to at least go through all the mens’ so Astra and the team start on those. I don’t think we’ll get to the ladies’ til next week.”

“Plenty of time, though. It doesn’t open until May.”

“Yeah, but there’s a lot of pieces, and some of those tutus are pretty extravagant. Because this production hasn’t been done for about five years, a few things might have to be completely remade.”

“Yeah, you’re right. There’s all those ‘Dance of the Hours’ tutus, and the wedding scene ones.”

“Z needs to get down there too, but I don’t know what day she plans to go.”

“That production has some of the most amazing headdresses.”

“Z’s lucky they don’t deteriorate as quickly as fabric, but they’re more likely to get bent.”

They left the conversation at that, Charlie disappearing towards the change rooms and Sara continuing towards the stage.

“Is it common to bellow through the corridors?” a disapproving voice asked.

Sara stopped and rolled her eyes before turning around. Ava Sharpe had stepped out of one of the rehearsal rooms, and was holding her score to her chest like a school-student hiding their exam answers.

“Ava. Hey,” Sara said, and deciding not to dignify Ava’s no doubt rhetorical answer with a response. She looked at Ava with her bun tighter than a ballerina’s, wearing her usual black trousers and white dress shirt. Sara found it hard to believe Behrad and Gary’s gushing praise of her performance during rehearsal. “Been - warming up?” It was a ridiculous question and Sara knew it, but she tried not to let it show. Ava wasn’t doing anything for the rest of the evening but returning to Rip’s shadow.

Ava tried not to pull a face. “I was going over some parts of the _Chess_ score, and had imagined that this would be a quiet place to do so.”

“Ok,” Sara said, knowing that Ava had chosen that specific warm-up room to disappear to because it had a baby grand piano and amazing acoustics. She briefly wondered exactly which songs Ava had been going over, imaging Ava to be the type to sing both parts of _Mountain Duet_ or every role in _The Deal (No Deal)_. “I heard rehearsal went well this afternoon,” Sara said, at least trying to be friendly though her tone sounded more patronising than she intended.

“Who told you that?” Ava asked.

“Behrad, Gary. Everyone’s in the cafeteria now getting dinner and they’re all talking about it.”

“Oh,” Ava said, betraying no emotion. “Well, I should go and eat something.”

“Yeah. Do you know where the cafeteria is?”

“Yes, but I’m not eating there. I brought my own dinner.”

“Of course,” Sara said. She couldn’t help but watch as Ava disappeared up the corridor, strutting along like she owned the place. “She hasn’t even conducted a show yet,” Sara mumbled to herself, finally reaching her sanctuary side-stage.

…

Sara lay in bed, unable to sleep after riding on a high from the evening’s performance. Everything had been a success, though throughout the show Sara had tried not to think about how the following week it would be Ava standing and conducting in the pit. She was so used to Rip being there that now that he was almost finished it didn’t seem real. Sara grabbed her phone from her bedside table and the typed “Ava Sharpe conductor” into the YouTube search. She knew that she would be able to find the same bios that Zari had if she searched for Ava in Google, but Sara didn’t want to read those, she wanted to see her in action. Surely Behrad and Gary were over-exaggerating. Behrad had fallen into this world by chance, and after Rip conducting for years, Gary would surely think anyone who didn’t conduct like a corpse in a tux was considered ‘animated’.

YouTube proved to be unhelpful.

_Do you mean: Louis Sharpe conductor_

“No,” Sara muttered to her phone, and scrolled past the videos of Louis Sharpe.

 _Do you mean: David Sharpe conductor_ suggested the next section of videos. Sara kept scrolling.

_Related: Robert Sharpe_

Sara scrolled past a whole lot of videos of Robert Sharpe talking about and playing the organ, until she reached the _For You_ section, which was even less related to her search, while wondering whether there was an overrepresentation of Sharpes in the musical world. Sara closed YouTube and sighed, then placed her phone aside. She wasn’t sure what she was annoyed at. She knew how one-gendered the classical music world was for the most part, especially in conducting and other top jobs. What did it matter if she saw a clip of Ava conduct or not? Even if there was something, it would probably only be a blurry video from someone’s phone. Very soon she’d see Ava conduct in person.

And even if Ava was a good conductor, Sara thought as she swung her legs off her bed and made her way towards the bathroom, that would be good for the orchestra, and good for Metropolis. She wouldn’t have gotten the gig if she wasn’t half-decent.

“Unless Rip’s set her up to fail?” Sara asked her own reflection in the bathroom mirror. That didn’t seem likely though, she thought as she got a drink of water. Rip might have been Ava’s mentor back in the day, but others would of had to approve her appointment too. Regardless, Sara reminded herself, it didn’t matter. She would do her job to the best of her ability, and if Ava wanted to be a stuck-up bitch while doing hers, then that was her own decision.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The real-life craziness is continuing, so here's some more escapism :)

Rip’s final performance as conductor for the Metropolis Opera and Ballet Orchestra was a joyous evening for all. At the end of _Swan Lake_ , Gideon presented a large bunch of flowers to Rip on stage, and Wilbur Bennett, Director of the Metropolis Arts Centre, said a few words, plus Rip was imparted much applause by the audience. The largest function room in the Arts Centre had been booked for a farewell celebration, and was well attended. Sara lurked near the door, hoping to make an Irish goodbye as soon as possible as she was tired and didn’t feel like small-talk. Watching the crowd of people from the various companies which resided in the Metropolis Arts Centre, she did notice that Ava was conspicuous by her absence.

“No Ms Sharpe?” Gideon asked, leaning beside Sara and handing her a glass of champagne.

“I was just thinking that,” Sara said, taking a sip of the champagne. “Maybe she doesn’t drink?”

“Zari and Behrad don’t drink, but they’re here,” Gideon said.

“Behrad’s here for the free food and Zari’s here for Charlie. Besides, Mick is making up for all the alcohol that those two don’t have.”

Gideon chuckled. “You’re looking to move?”

“You guys might have a couple of weeks off performing, but we open _Chess_ on Friday.”

“Just because we’re not on stage, doesn’t mean the work stops.”

“Oh, trust me, I know,” Sara said, knowing exactly how hard the ballet company worked even when they weren’t in the middle of a performance. “I’m guessing you’ve heard how everyone seems to that Ava is god’s gift to conducting?”

“I have,” Gideon said. “I’ve been meaning to go and watch, but haven’t had the chance. What day is dress-and-tech for _Chess_? I’ll see if I can pop by.”

“Thursday. Zari snuck into rehearsals yesterday and said the same as everyone else,” Sara said, taking another sip of her drink and looking around. “All this for Rip gives me the feeling that he’s not coming back.”

“Officially he is,” Gideon replied, sipping her champagne.

“But unofficially?” Sara asked with a small smirk between sips of drink.

“He wants to settle back in the UK. If he can get a permanent job, he’ll take it. Guesting for a couple of months gives him time, and lets the powers that be over there get used to him being back on the European scene. Oh, look. You might be able to leave in a minute.”

Sara looked toward the front of the function room, where Rip appeared to be getting ready to give a speech.

“Good. As soon as he’s done, I’m going,” Sara said, trying to suppress a yawn by having another sip of her drink. “I’d suggest a drinking game, but…”

“But we’d both be sloshed before Rip got halfway through,” Gideon said.

Rip soon began his predictably long-winded speech, talking primarily about himself, but with an occasional mention of the orchestra, and the opera and ballet companies. He had a long list of thank-yous, though Sara noticed that they were primarily for Bennett and the other men in senior management. Sara could feel Gideon beginning to bristle beside her, before Rip sung her praises as both a dancer and artist director. As Rip was starting to wrap up, Sara handed Gideon her empty champagne glass and slipped out of the function room and into the cold night.

The icy breeze was refreshing after the stuffy, crowded function room, and Sara did up her coat in order to say warm. Usually Sara had no issues with taking the train home at night, as there were usually other performers and audience members still around, but having stayed back longer than usual, she made her way to the cab ranks instead, knowing that an extra $10 spent was better than a dodgy encounter on the train. There was someone else waiting in the brightly lit area, and as Sara got closer, she saw that it was none other that Ava Sharpe, wrapped in an elegant, knee-length black trench-coat.

“Working late?” Sara asked, adjusting her weight from one foot to the other and shoving her hands in her pockets, while maintaining a respectful distance from Ava.

Ava turned and looked at Sara, seemingly annoyed that her quiet wait was interrupted. “I was rehearsing in the warm-up room.”

“At eleven o’clock at night?” Sara asked.

“I would have found it difficult to sleep until I had the song completely set in my mind,” Ava explained, though her tone far from encouraged further conversation.

“Oh,” Sara said, ignoring the fact that Ava didn’t seem to want company. “You didn’t come by Rip’s farewell?”

“I’m not very good at small talk, and I don’t really know anyone,” Ava said.

Well, who’s fault is that? Sara thought as two cabs pulled up at once. “See you on…” Sara thought for a moment, “Whatever day, umm, Tuesday? Will you be around for sound checks? Wait, sound checks are Wednesday. See you Wednesday?”

“Yes,” said Ava, opening the back door to the front cab. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” Sara said watching as Ava climbed in and closed the door with a meaningful _thud_.

“You wanna go after her?” Sara’s cabbie asked with a smirk.

“Shut-up,” Sara said, climbing into the back seat and giving the driver her address.

…

Ava opened the door to her rented apartment, and before she could even turn on the light, her little tabby cat, Kitty Parker, was brushing against her legs, mewing for food.

“Sorry, I know I’m late,” Ava said, turning on the light and making her way to the kitchen. This wasn’t her favourite kitchen in all the serviced apartments she’d rented over the years, but the rest of the apartment, the location and the fact they allowed pets had won her over. Ava went to the pantry and found a tin of food for Kitty, who was still winding her way between Ava’s legs and trilling for food.

“Did you have a nice day?” Ava asked the cat as she scraped the food into Kitty’s bowl. “I bet you enjoyed the sunshine in the middle of the day. There you go,” she said, placing the bowl on the floor for Kitty. “I am sorry I’m so late, but I don’t have a piano here, and it’s harder to practice the score on the violin than the piano. I don’t know if I should hire one? It would be funny watching the piano guys trying to get one in here. I’d probably have to speak to the landlord to find out if I’d even be allowed.”

Ava went into her bedroom and took off her coat, shoes and watch, slipping her feet into her slippers and shuffling around the apartment to close the blinds, blocking out the bright views of the Metropolis skyline. She got some kibble for Kitty, refreshed her water bowl, then went to the ensuite and unpinned her hair, running her fingers through it, letting it fall into long golden locks around her shoulders, trying not to let her mind fixate on certain lines from the upcoming show; _When I was young,_ _I learned survival, taught myself not to care. I was my single good companion, taking my comfort there._

Ava started to clean her teeth. Rarely when she guest conducted did she allow herself to get close to anyone. It was too hard to make friends, only to leave again. She’d primarily conducted up and down the West Coast, and had a couple of friends in most of the major cities. Though she’d conducted all over the country and in Canada, she had never spent as long away from the West Coast as she was going to this time. Ava would be spending at least five months in Metropolis, long enough to actually fully unpack her suitcase, and to bring Kitty Parker with her. Ava was torn. She was going to be here too long to not let anyone in, but doing so made it so much harder to leave.

Washing her face, Ava thought back on some of her favourite shows in the past. The West Coast tour of _Les Miserables,_ _Totem_ and _Iris_ for Cirque de Soleil tours, various concerts as guest conductor with the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra, the National City Symphony Orchestra, Seattle Symphony, Vancouver Symphony Orchestra. Ava smiled sadly at her reflection, wishing the music could be enough to provide everything she needed.

Kitty Parker entered the bathroom and jumped up onto the edge of the bath.

“You have water in the kitchen,” Ava told her, giving her a pat on the head. Kitty nuzzled Ava’s hand and jumped up onto the vanity. Ava picked her up and gave her a hug, not worried about getting fur on her suit as everything needed to go to the dry cleaner anyway. “If I’m here long enough to bring you over, it’s long enough to maybe make some friends right?”

Kitty purred, happy to be in Ava’s arms.

“Stupid show lyrics,” Ava said, nuzzling her face against Kitty’s fur as more lyrics drifted through her mind: _I don’t see a reason to be lonely._

…

After removing her microphone, Kara all but skipped from the temporary desk the sound crew had set-up side-stage over to Sara’s desk, beaming as usual.

“You’re gunna make them cry,” Sara said, giving Kara a hug.

“What? No, I don’t want to make people cry!”

Sara laughed. “It’s kind of your job, Kara.”

“I’m the manipulative wife. Everyone’s meant to like Florence, not me. Sam’s meant to make them cry.”

“Yeah, but you’re cute and _Someone Else’s Story_ is going to bring the waterworks, especially if you sing it the way you did just now.”

“Really?” Kara asked. “It felt weird singing it without the orchestra or the rehearsal piano. I don’t know how Ray and Cisco and the rest of the techies make it all work, having us sing all alone, then making the levels work with the orchestra.”

“Theatre magic,” Sara smiled.

“It really is,” Kara said. “Did I tell you Alex is coming? She’s taking a couple of days off work to come over from National City to see the show on the weekend.”

“Alex texted me the other day,” Sara said. “She said she’s bringing her girlfriend and is forcing me to lunch.”

“Really? Why didn’t she tell me that? Is that weird? Going to lunch?” Kara asked, “It feels like it could be weird.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Sara said. “We hooked up, what, 18 months ago? And hook-ups at other people’s weddings when you’re both feeling sad and single don’t really count.” Sara and Alex Danvers had enjoyed a very memorable night together the night before Barry Allen’s wedding, which Kara had taken great pleasure in teasing her sister about.

“I’ll message Alex and ask if Lena and I can tag along too and we can make it a girls’ lunch,” Kara grinned. “Oh, and can I please have a seat beside your desk during dress rehearsal tomorrow? I’m not in the first act, so…”

“You know the deal,” Sara smiled. “If you can find a seat and don’t get in the way, you can stay there.”

“Yay!” Kara smiled. “I’m so excited for this show. Oh, listen to Sam. She’s so good! _She’s_ going to make everyone cry.”

Sara and Kara stood for a moment while Sam sang part of _Nobody’s Side_ before Ray let her know that was enough and asked for her for an example of something she either yelled or belted, to make sure the sound wasn’t too loud in those parts.

“I have a lot of shouty-lines,” Kara said.

“Not really,” Sara replied, “You just don’t shout much in real life, so you’re not used to it. And Svetlana is a bit of a different role for you. I think _Unexpected Song_ that you sang at the gala last summer will always be the song I associate with you.”

“That would suit your range and character well,” said a new voice.

Sara and Kara turned, seeing Ava standing behind them with her hands clasped behind her back.

“Oh, hi, Ava,” Kara smiled.

“What can I do to help, Ms Sharpe?” Sara asked out of habit, as pretty much everyone who approached her backstage was after some form of assistance.

“I was just watching,” Ava said. “This isn’t a view I get very often. And Barry and Sam asked to go certain parts of the music once they were done with the sound checks. Were you all right with everything, Kara?”

“Yeah, I am, thanks,” Kara said. “Are you excited for tomorrow’s rehearsal, Ava? And then opening night on Friday? Or more nervous? My mom and sister and sister’s girlfriend are coming over from National City, and they come over a couple of times a year, but this is extra special, so I’m excited and nervous and really want to see them but also just want to start the show, you know? I think excitement is winning. I’m very excited.”

“That’s good,” Ava said, not entirely sure of what of make of Kara’s babbling. “Well, looks like Sam is finished. If she asks, Ms Lance, you know which warm-up room I prefer.” Ava turned on her heel and headed out of the theatre.

“She is a bit weird, isn’t she?” Kara asked. “I mean, she’s brilliant, but… a bit weird.”

“I haven’t seen her conduct yet,” Sara said.

“Wow,” said Kara. “You must be the only one. I have never seen the rehearsal studios as full as they have been. Even Gideon and a couple of others from the ballet company were there this morning.”

“Really?” Sara said. “I knew that Gideon was hoping to come to the dress-and-tech tomorrow.”

“Ava is really good, Sara,” Kara said. “But what did she mean by you knowing her preferred warm-up room?” Kara asked, raising her eyebrows.

Sara laughed. “One of us has been caught making-out with our girlfriend in the warm-up rooms. The other one got admonished by the new guest conductor for talking too loudly in what she thought was an empty hallway, not knowing that said conductor had discovered the room with the baby-grand and had been practising in there, or whatever conductors do at the piano.”

“Oh,” Kara pouted in an attempt to hide the fact the she was blushing at the memory of getting caught with Lena in the warm-up room. Thankfully it had only been by Sara, but the gossip had quickly spread side-stage and through the dressing rooms. “So no gossip? Or rumours?”

“Definitely no gossip,” Sara said. “Promise. Oh, Sam, Ava’s in the baby room.”

“Great,” Sam said, sipping at her drink. “I’ll find her in a minute. I want to listen to Barry sing awkwardly with no orchestra for a minute. Did that sound ok? It always sounds weird on stage for the first time.”

“You were perfect,” Kara said. “You’re going to make everyone cry.”

“It’s sounding great, Sam,” Sara said.

“Thanks,” Sam said. “Actually, I guess I better go find our good conductor because just between us, she scares me a little. I’ve seem Barry looking awkward plenty of times.”

“I’m really the last one to see Ava conduct, aren’t I?” Sara asked. “And even tomorrow I’ll only see her from the screen beside my desk.”

“I’m sure you could sneak into the ballet mixed-bill rehearsals when they start in another week or so,” Kara said. “If you’re that keen to actually see Ava in person.”

“What?” Sara asked, narrowing her eyes.

“What?” Kara asked innocently.

“No.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Kara protested, trying in vain to hide a grin.

“Go rehearse or annoy someone else or something.”

“You like her!”

“No, I don’t,” Sara said, folding her arms.

 _“…Which move to make, which way to go…”_ Barry sang unaccompanied on stage.

“She’s specifically your type! A strong woman, at the top of her game, plus she’s being extremely mysterious and hard to get, and you love a challenge,” Kara said, wrapping her arms around Sara’s shoulders. “And I’ll leave you alone once Barry’s done, and then I think that’s everyone and you’ll probably have something to do.”

Sara smiled and shook her head, resigned to the gossip which was no doubt about to spread like wildfire through the Main Stage companies, as everyone knew that the lovely, friendly, extremely kind Kara Danvers could not keep a secret to save herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kitty Parker is the name of a classical composer, and Ava is definitely someone who would name her pets after other great women in music.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you America. The relief, even on the other side of the world, is palpable today 💙

The atmosphere backstage was electric. A few members of the orchestra were already in the pit, warming up or tuning up, the flutist playing the same couple of bars over and over to get it just right. The crew were buzzing about, getting everything into position, and some of the cast were beginning to lurk in the wings. Kara had taken up position beside Sara’s desk, despite being allowed to sit in the audience for the first act, she preferred to be part of the action side-stage.

Sara walked across the stage, having done final checks on the off-prompt side, happy that her team were set to go. One of the spotlights followed her across the stage and Sara did a low _grand jeté,_ aware that her legs weren’t close to being straight, and it was nearly impossible to point her feet in her boots, but her _port de bras_ was flawless. Sara didn’t care that there were already a few people in the auditorium, knowing it would give them a chuckle. One person she hadn’t thought would be watching was Ava, who happened to be standing in the wings, hands clasped behind her back, but wearing a black dress shirt instead of her usual white.

“Ava, what brings you up here?” Sara asked as she entered the wings, thinking that Ava would have gone straight to the pit.

“I don’t know what you do around here,” Ava said with a tight smile. “Pre-show traditions or any of that. Umm, break a leg,” she said, holding out her hand.

Sara shook it, noticing how awkward Ava was, but took this as some kind of peace offering. “They sound awful,” she joked, nodding towards the pit where more of the musicians were now tuning up.

Ava smiled. “It’s amazing how tuning to an ‘A’ can sound so terrible.”

Sara chuckled. “Interval is scheduled to go for forty-minutes, to give everyone a proper break, so I might see you then?”

“Yes,” said Ava. “Right. Time to get started.”

“Yes it is,” Sara said, checking her watch. She watched Ava exit backstage, wondering just what was going on in the conductor’s mind, before making her way to her desk and putting on her cans.

“Were you checking out her arse?” Kara asked, failing to suppress a smirk.

“If you talk, you have to go sit in your dressing room,” Sara said, pressing the PA button. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Act 1 beginners call. Act 1 beginners, please. Two minutes until curtain up. Thank-you.”

Sara looked at the two screens beside her desk, one of the stage as the heavy red curtain was lowered, the other showing Ava in the pit as she stepped into position, shaking hands with the concertmaster and other string sections leaders who sat in front of her.

“I’m so excited,” Kara said, bouncing in her seat.

Sara opened her script to page one, and placed a pencil in the spine. Kara wasn’t the only one who could feel the electricity running through the theatre as the cast gathered in the wings, and those who started on stage took their positions. It didn’t matter that the audience consisted of the creative and administrative staff of the opera and orchestra companies, as well as a few others from the Arts Centre general management and a few from the ballet, including Gideon. It seemed to Sara that almost everyone but her had had the chance to see Ava conduct, even if only briefly. Any moment now, Sara would cue the lights, Ava would raise her baton, and the rehearsal would commence.

The first act went by as smoothly as any tech-and-dress rehearsal had ever gone. Sara didn’t have much time to watch Ava conduct, as she was still getting used to the cues she had to call, but from the moments she did see, it was as though the Ava who stalked around the corridors with her music clutched to her chest had been replaced by a clone who was completely at one with the music and the orchestra. Ava’s conducting was almost as captivating than that of the performers on stage, who seemed to be as good, if not better, than they’d ever been.

“Woah,” Kara exhaled, leaning back in her chair as the curtain came down and the lights came up for interval.

“Yeah,” Sara breathed. “Barry nailed that final number.”

“I don’t just mean Barry,” Kara said, “Everyone was on fire. Now I have to go and match that.”

“Well, you better go and get made-up and dressed,” Sara said. “You won’t match them in a ponytail and stripy jumper.”

Kara chuckled and stood up, moving her chair out of the way. “Better go swap it for my sexy black dress.”

“Gotta win you man back off Sam!” Sara laughed.

During interval Sara was caught up with technical work, helping to change the angle of some of the lights, and answering the hundred-and-one questions the crew had about every small matter, and a good deal of questions from the cast as well. Sara looked towards the pit and saw Ava there, talking to Gary and a couple of other musicians. Ava looked up and caught Sara’s eye on stage and smiled. Sara gave a thumbs-up signal. Ava’s smile broadened before she turned back to her musicians.

“Oi, Sara,” Charlie called.

“Where have you been?” Sara asked.

“In the auditorium. Thought I’d try to watch at least half the show, because I knew the whole cast would want me now.”

“What’s the feeling out there?”

“Everyone’s impressed. Gideon’s sitting there with her arms folded across her chest, looking like like the cat who got the cream. The opera and orchestra teams were too caught up in the show to take many notes at all. What about back here?”

“No complaints, unless little birdie Kara Danvers whispering in your ear about how amazing she thinks everyone and everything is the whole time counts.”

Charlie laughed. “You let her sit with you, you have to put up with her enthusiasm. I better see how everyone’s getting on in the dressing-rooms, and tell Z to go sneak into the auditorium, at least for half the act. This is proper good, Sara.”

Act two started with just as much energy and spirit as the first act had ended with. Kara lurked by Sara’s desk, waiting for her cue, now dressed in a gorgeous period-appropriate black skirt-suit, with her hair in soft curls, and her long black satin ballgown for later in the act hanging on the quick-change rack.

“Lucky you’re taken,” Sara whispered with a wink.

Kara chuckled and waited in the wings for her moment.

With only a few bars to go, Sara gave the final cue for spotlights before being able to watch the final moments of the rehearsal. She found herself torn between watching the cast either side-on through the wings or on the screen beside her, or watching the screen showing Ava conducting. Perhaps it was best she was hidden in the pit or no one would watch the show, Sara thought smiling proudly as the music swelled, and the choir and entire ensemble joined in for the final bars.

_“My land’s only borders lie around my heart.”_

Sara felt a shiver go down her spine as Ava conducted the final note and the lights were cut and curtain went down.

“House lights up. Well done, everyone,” Sara said into the cans and the lights and curtain came back up.

Looking to her left, Sara could see Charlie and Zari standing in the wings, arms around one another, where they had been singing along to the finale. She had heard Ray singing over the cans. Of course, by time they performed it a couple of dozen times over the coming month, everyone involved would know every word, but this felt different. There was a smattering of applause from the comparatively tiny audience, and the cast were excitedly congratulating one-another on stage.

The excitement backstage was palpable. They weren’t practising bows, as everyone was aware of the order, but actors seemed reluctant to leave the stage, and it wasn’t until Mick came on with a very large broom and started sweeping around them that they got the message. Sara took off her cans, turned off her desk light and took a deep breath.

“What the hell was that?!” Zari exclaimed, just about bouncing.

“We never sound that good,” Charlie said. “We never sound anything like that.”

“Well, maybe we do now,” Sara said, closing her script.

“Did you notice Ava singing along in parts?” Zari asked.

“Yes. Ray was singing over cans.”

“I caught Behrad singing in the corridor,” Zari said. “So, what now?”

“What do you mean?” Sara asked. “Go home? We’ll do notes in the morning, and - ”

“About you and Ava?” Charlie asked with a smirk.

“Oh, go do some work,” Sara said and rolled her eyes, deciding to find something to do herself, knowing that her response would do nothing to stop whatever rumours were quickly spreading. Some of the cast were still lurking on stage, including Kara.

Sara went to offer everyone her congratulations, and helped to remove their microphones, returning them to Cisco at the sound desk.

“I’m trying to decide if this is my favourite show we’ve done or if something else still beats it,” Cisco said as they packed up the mics.

“What would rival it?” Sara asked, thinking back over past productions. “And what’s in the pool? Are you comparing it to everything, ever, or just other musicals?”

“Musicals and operettas are the main contestants, it’s hard to put it against a ballet, and even a classical opera. _Evita_ two years ago was probably my favourite.”

_“Evita_ was great,” Sara said. “I think this might beat it though.”

“Yeah, me too,” said Cisco. “I’m going to be singing this for weeks.”

“Lucky it’s playing for weeks!” Sara said with a smile, and made her way back across the stage to her desk. She sat down and flicked though her script, glancing at the notes she’d scribbled down in the semi-darkness, and hoping she’d be able decipher them at production meeting in the morning.

“Sara?”

Sara looked up and saw Ava standing beside her desk.

“Hi. How can I help?” Sara asked with a smile.

Ava looked askance. “That went well,” she said stiffly. Her hair was slightly falling out, with a few strands lose around her face, and her face was slightly flushed from the energy it takes to conduct a two-plus hours show.

“It did,” Sara said with a smile, a little taken aback that Ava seemed to be here just for a chat. “From my little corner this looks like it’s going to be a really good show.”

“Yes,” Ava said. “Also from where I stand.”

“Great,” Sara said, wishing Ava would give her more to work with.

“Ok,” said Ava and turned to leave.

“Ava?” Sara said, calling Ava back before she could overthink things and stop herself.

“Yes?” Ava said, turning back.

“Want to get dinner?”

“What?”

“At the cafeteria,” Sara said, not wanting to scare Ava of come across too strong, or give Ava the wrong idea. Or any idea. This was completely professional. Sara didn’t know how much of her reputation had preceded her. It didn’t bother her, what people said or thought about her, but for reasons she couldn’t quite explain she didn’t want to mess things up with Ava before they’d even started. “I don’t want to think about cooking tonight when I get home, and I know it’s early but we had an early lunch because of rehearsals starting so early, so… we -we can go over some notes. It’ll make tomorrow morning’s production meeting quicker if the two of us are on the same page.”

A small smile crept onto Ava’s face. “I’d like that. I have a few notes and I’d rather get as much sorted while everything is fresh in my mind. I’m sure I have some stupid questions too, and I’d rather not embarrass myself in front of everyone.”

“There’s no such thing as a stupid question, only stupid answers, of which you are likely to receive many as everyone is approximately 90% coffee at morning production meetings,” Sara said, almost cringing at her own bad joke, but was very relieved when Ava smiled properly.

“I’ll go and get my score,” Ava said. “Meet you back here?”

“Yep,” Sara said, “I’ll just be tidying up.”

“Great,” said Ava. “I’m always hungry after a show.”

Sara smiled to herself and made sure everything in her corner was reset for opening night before Ava returned a few minutes later, holding her score to her chest.

“I better give you some tips about the cafeteria,” Sara said, grabbing her script and a pencil.

“What do you mean?” Ava asked.

“Always get the potatoes, not the chips, unless you’re getting fish’n’chips, in which case, the chips are mandatory.”

“Oh,” Ava said, relaxing a little as they made their way up the corridor. “Those kind of tips.”

Yeah, Sara thought, the sort of useful things Rip should have let you know before he left to you it. “If there’s a stew on the menu, it’s pretty much guaranteed the meat has come from off-cuts from whatever’s on the menu at the Forecourt Restaurant, but that’s by no means a bad thing. Same goes for pasta sauce, but not always. Corn on the cob is always good, same with the French beans, but the veggie mix comes out of the freezer. There’s a tap for drinking water that’s a little bit hidden around an awkward corner, but I’ll show you where it is. And if there’s anything you really want, feel free to ask the staff, and it’s likely you’ll see it on the menu in a couple of weeks.”

“That’s proper insider knowledge,” Ava said.

Sara smiled, happy to impress Ava, even if it was just knowledge of how the staff cafeteria ran. She swiped her pass to let them into the cafeteria, which was mostly empty, save for a few crew members from the other theatres in the complex, as most of the cast, crew and orchestra from their rehearsal would now head home. Without thinking, Sara led the way to the table she usually shared with her friends, and placed her script down as a way of claiming the table incase anyone else was eyeing off the prime position.

“Ok, Ava,” she said, leading the way back towards the food. “Pulled barbecue beef, veal schnitzel, or chickpea curry?”

“What do you recommend?” Ava asked.

“I’m going to go the schnitzel. The beef is often on the menu and I had it last week. Tomorrow there’s going to be butter chicken curry which I’ve been waiting for, and I don’t want curry two nights in a row.”

“Right,” said Ava. “I guess I’ll get the beef? It looks good.”

“Good,” said Sara. They placed their orders, selecting from rice, roast potatoes or chips, plus two vegetables, grabbed a selection of salad vegetables from the salad bar, and Sara pointed out the half-hidden drinking tap. Once they were settled back at the table, they each opened their respective scripts, Sara’s with just the libretto, while Ava’s score had the full orchestration, lyrics and dialogue.

“Act one, page one,” Sara said, swallowing a mouthful of carrots, her fork in one hand, pencil in the other. “Ava strikes up the band for the overture.”

Ava looked up from her meal and raised an eyebrow.

Sara laughed. “All right, I won’t call it ‘the band’.”

“I haven’t conducted a band since high school.”

“You conducted in high school?”

“Marching band,” Ava said.

“Ah,” Sara said.

“Curtain opens,” Ava said, returning to the script.

“Curtain opens, scrim down, lights slowly rise behind, silhouetting the dancers and chorus. Any notes on the overture?”

“Nope, only for the orchestra,” Ava said, scribbling some form of shorthand in the column.

“Slight deviation from the script, but were the stage lights ok? You probably noticed us adjusting some at interval. We don’t want to blind you every time you look up at the stage. I think you’re about the same height as Rip, but you’re still a different person and getting the lights just right can be as much of an art as a science.”

“They were good,” Ava said with a small smile. “On to _The Story of Chess?_ ”

“On to _The Story of Chess,_ ” Sara said, flipping the page of her script while stabbing at her potatoes. They soon fell into a rhythm, and Sara couldn’t help but feel as though she and Ava could have been discussing production notes for years.


	5. Chapter 5

Ava lay in bed, deciding she could wait a little while longer before getting up. Kitty Parker lay alongside her, more or less right in the middle of the queen-sized bed, acting as a real-life hot-water bottle. Ava pulled her arm out of the covers and reached down to pat Kitty’s head.

“Good morning, Kitty Parker,” Ava said. “It’s opening night, tonight.”

Production meeting was at 11am, which was why Ava was in no hurry to get up and get moving. She’d slept well, but pre-show nerves were beginning to creep up on her. Ava went through her plans for the day in her head. She would feed Kitty Parker, then make her own poached eggs and avocado on toast. After breakfast and a quick shower, she’d dress in something comfortable and clean the bathroom. She’d then sit in front of the TV, file and polish her fingernails and re-paint her toenails, while Kitty would no doubt sit behind her head on the top of the couch. That would take until around 10am, at which time Ava would dress for a normal day at work, but put her best suit and one of her dozen black ‘performance’ shirts into a suit bag, along with her patent shoes, and double-check her make-up bag, ensuring that there was hairspray and extra pins, deodorant, roll-on perfume, powder, lipstick, mascara, and liquid eyeliner. Ava knew it was all there, but she always double-checked anyway.

After the production meeting, she would set up her dressing room and eat the chicken and spinach baguette she’d pick up for lunch on the way to the theatre, then practise in the warm-up room with the baby grand piano, which she’d quite adopted as her own. The orchestra had quickly learnt that if she wasn’t in her office, that was where they could find her. After practise, Ava would go for a walk, get something for dinner and a snack for interval, and by that time, it was almost be showtime.

“What are your plans, Kitty?” Ava asked. “Breakfast, then naps in various places around the apartment?”

Kitty Parker stretched, then sat up and looked at Ava.

“You’re a very pretty girl,” Ava cooed. “Yes you are. You’re a very pretty cat.”

Ava stoked Kitty’s long, stripy legs, and had the peculiar passing thought wondering what Sara Lance thought of cats. It had been very kind of Sara to offer to go over their notes last night, Ava reflected. Rip had told her that the stage manager was cliquey and thought rather too highly of herself, but after some time observing her, that wasn’t what Ava thought at all. There didn’t seem to be anyone who didn’t like Sara, she was generally approachable if a little intimidating, and extremely knowledgeable of all areas of stage craft. The orchestra spoke highly of her, as did the cast. Of course her closest friends seemed to be others from the crew, but that made sense, as they were who she worked most closely with. She had a unique sense of humour, a lovely smile and those sparkling blue eyes.

“Cufflinks,” Ava said to Kitty and sat up. “If I choose a shirt with cufflinks, I need to decide which ones.”

It had been the thought of Sara’s brilliant blue eyes which had reminded Ava of the blue Swarovski crystal cufflinks she’d bought as a souvenir from Swarovski World in Innsbruck when she’d visited Austria on vacation a couple of years ago. She decided that the bass and treble clef cufflinks were probably better suited for tonight’s performance, and wished Sara Lance would stop coming unbidden into her mind.

…

Sara stood in the foyer, waiting for the elevator. Production meeting had gone well, and was noticeably quicker without Rip’s long-winded explanations and general interjections about anything and everything. Sara was glad that she and Ava had gone over their notes the night before, and Sara liked to think that that had given Ava more confidence in the meeting. Afterwards, Sara had gone for a walk in the weak winter sunshine and picked up some sushi for lunch from her favourite hole-in-the-wall sushi place, deciding to eat it back at the theatre rather than battling for a table in the tiny premises.

The elevator _ping_ ed and Sara was pleasantly surprised to see Gideon already inside, with the stage level button already pressed.

“Hello, Gideon.”

“Good afternoon Sara,” Gideon said as the doors closed. “All ready for opening night?”

“I think so. What did you think of rehearsal yesterday?”

“Superlative,” Gideon said. “Everyone was exceptional. Not that one can see a lot of Ms Sharpe in the pit, but she seems to bring something out of the orchestra and the performers that for all his talents, I don’t think Rip ever did. Or are we calling her Ava, now?” Gideon asked with a smirk as the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened.

“Are you getting out?” Sara asked.

“No,” Gideon said, scanning her pass and pressing the button for level three, where the ballet company offices were. “I might pop down to see everyone later on. I’ll be in the audience for the Wednesday matinee next week. It’s possible you’re onto something special here,” Gideon said with a wink as the doors closed, leaving Sara alone in the corridor wondering just what Gideon was referring to. Before Sara could get half-way to the stage, she was ambushed by Charlie.

“You had dinner with her?” Charlie exclaimed.

“What?” Sara asked, despite knowing exactly what Charlie was talking about, and had purposefully avoided her and Zari as much as possible during production meeting to avoid this very conversation.

“You had dinner with Ava. In the canteen last night, yeah?”

“Yes, so?” Sara said, trying to play it cool. “I have dinner with you all the time. We went over our show notes while we ate, and I’m glad we did because it made production meeting go very smoothly.”

“Yeah, it’s great when the SM and conductor aren’t at logger-heads, but you and her, yeah?”

“It was just dinner and notes,” Sara stressed.

Charlie gave Sara a playful nudge. “And next time it will be dinner, notes and - oh, hi Mick.”

Mick grunted as he walked past, pushing a sound case.

“Don’t know where he’s going with that,” Sara said, glancing back at Mick but deciding to let him do whatever he was doing.

“Hey, Sara, you know we might give you a bit of a hard time, but we really just want you to be happy, yeah?”

“It really was just something to eat and notes…”

“Ok, ok!” Charlie laughed. “But _if_ it becomes more, well… she’s pretty hot and is damn good at her job. Just saying, you know, if - maybe - in the future…”

“Yes, ok,” Sara said, knowing that her friends meant well even if they were annoying, and wasn’t prepared to think too much about whatever she was feeling for Ava. “Come on, we’ve got work to do and I’ve got sushi to eat. Let’s open this show.”

…

The opening night performance went ever bit as well as the dress-and-tech rehearsal had, possibly even better, as the cast had the electric atmosphere of a full house to pull energy from. The reviews over the weekend were outstanding, though they only gave the obligatory one paragraph to the orchestra, everyone on and behind the scenes had a feeling that it was the presence of the new conductor who was bringing out the best in them all, even if Ava didn’t realise it herself. By the end of the opening weekend, rumours were flying backstage that the whole three-week run was completely booked out, adding further excitement.

By the time _Chess_ had been running for over a week, the crew of the Main Stage bumped in the ballet company’s upcoming triple-bill, which would be running alongside _Chess_ on alternate days for a week. Knowing everything backstage was more or less sorted, Sara had made her way up to the light, bright orchestral rehearsal studio. As she approached, she could hear the orchestra playing, the the music stopped suddenly. Sara quietly opened the door and crept to the back of the studio, sitting down beside Behrad while Ava spoke to the orchestra.

“How are they going?” Sara asked softly, not wanting to cause distraction, though she was mostly obscured from Ava’s view by the percussionists.

“Good? I think? But they always sound good to me,” Behrad said. Behrad had fallen on his feet getting the job as the orchestra’s operations assistant. Whereas Zari’s creativity was almost prodigious, Behrad seemed to lack most organisational, technical, and administrative skills, but more or less made up for it with enthusiasm and being a genuinely nice person.

The orchestra laughed at something Ava said.

“Does she often make jokes?” Sara asked, never expecting Behrad to be particularly informative, but asking all the same.

“Don’t know,” Behrad said.

“Are they really that funny?”

Behrad shrugged. “I promise I’m not being annoying on purpose. From what I can tell, her jokes are highly technical, so unless you’re a professional musician, which I am not, you’re not gunna get it. It’s a lot higher quality than high school music teachers dropping a g-string joke.”

Sara chuckled. “She’s really settling in then,” she said as much to herself as to Behrad.

“I think so? When Rip made jokes, only he laughed. But Ava’s are actually funny if you get them, so that’s something I guess.”

“Huh,” Sara said, leaning back in the plastic chair.

“Ok, again from bar 48, through to the end of bar 79, though we might keep going. We shall see when we get there,” Ava said, picking up her baton from her music stand and stepping into position.

The musicians took a moment to flip their scores to the correct page. Sara watched as Ava raised her baton and the music began. Now that Ava was standing up straight, and the percussionist in position, Sara had a good view of Ava through the orchestra. It was the first time she had properly seen her conduct, rather than just on the little screen beside her desk side-stage. Sara had worked with dozens of conductors over the years, but there was something about Ava which Sara found to be completely magnetic.

Sara allowed the sound of the orchestra to fill her up, and sitting behind the percussion and brass, it wasn’t hard. She ignored Behrad humming along beside her, as he was in tune and in key, and looked at Ava, who just at that moment looked in Sara and Behrad’s direction, catching Sara’s eye. Sara smiled and the corner of Ava’s mouth twitched into a tiny smile too.

“Are you going to stay for the rest of the rehearsal?” Behrad whispered.

“How much longer do you have?”

“No idea.”

Sara raised her eyebrows.

“Umm, I think they finish as 2:30? So about 20 minutes?”

“Ok,” Sara whispered, wondering how Behrad successfully made his way through each day, “I’ll stay.”

Ava finished the rehearsal exactly on time. The musicians reminded Sara of school children, some making sure everything was left perfectly, while others walked out almost straight away, calling to friends in other sections, almost knocking over music stands and bumping people’s chairs.

“You came to rehearsal?” Ava said, approaching Sara.

“Well, we’re all bumped-in, and everything’s looking good from my end, thought I better come can check on you,” Sara smiled. “Sounding good.”

“Do you check on Gideon in the ballet studio too?” Ava asked, folding her arms and pretending to pout, but as she lowered her head, a lock of hair which had come loose fell forward, and it took every ounce of strength Sara had not to reach up tuck is back behind Ava’s ear.

“Not to spy on rehearsals, no,” Sara chuckled. “Gideon doesn’t mind if people want to go and watch morning class, or even certain rehearsals. I think she’d like it if you went along.”

“I don’t,” Ava said. “I don’t think she really likes me.”

“She just doesn’t know you,” Sara said, “But going along to morning class would help. And you’d get to know the dancers better, and know how they move. Who likes to go fast, who’s a bit slower, who chases the music, who always ends up off the count.”

“Did Rip ever go?” Ava asked, wondering why Rip had never mentioned this.

“Yeah, especially in the lead up to ballet productions to get a feel for everything. If you send Gideon an email saying you’d like to come along, she won’t have any objections.”

“I saw her dance once,” Ava said.

Sara’s eyes widened. “Seriously? When?”

“It was a long time ago now,” Ava said. “I was still in college, and went on vacation to Europe for the first time just before Christmas. I did a whirl-wind Contiki Tour which was good for what it was as an introduction to the continent, but my favourite time was when I was alone in London for a few days before the tour. I did a backstage tour at the Royal Opera House, and went to the ballet there. It was _The Nutcracker_ of course, and Gideon had a couple of roles in the first act, but in the second she was the Rose Fairy in _Waltz of the Flowers_. In that one variation, she completely stole the whole show. She - she was very good,” Ava said, realising she was rambling and possibly over-sharing.

Sara smiled. “Ava, that’s perfect. Tell her that, and that you thought she was brilliant. Flattery goes a long way with her. Oh, and you know if you ever have a sore back or neck or shoulders or anything, work-related or not, Sophie in their physio department will always help you out. Just say I recommended her and she’ll fit you in.”

“For what, a massage?”

“Yeah,” Sara said. “Or exercises or whatever."

“You use the ballet company’s physiotherapy department for free massages?”

“Think of it as part of our health insurance.”

“We have health insurance.”

“Well, this is more convenient, as you only have to go to level 3.”

Ava chuckled and shook her head at the fact that Sara seemed to know every trick in the book.

“What are you doing now?” Sara asked. “It’s too early for dinner and way too early to be getting ready for tonight’s show. I was going to go for a walk and get some air. You’re welcome to join me, if you’d like?”

“Oh, I - ah,” Ava composed herself. “I have a couple of things to do. Maybe another time?”

“Yeah, of course,” Sara said, hoping she sounded completely casual. She hadn’t been planning on asking Ava to go for a walk with her, the words had just come out, but it felt like the right thing to do, even though Ava had said no. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“See you later,” Ava said, watching Sara leave.

“Oh, Ms Sharpe! Ms Sharpe!”

“What is it, Gary?” Ava asked, wishing she could have been left alone, her mind still reeling at having told Sara so much about her past, and at Sara’s suggestion to go for a walk. It was completely true that she had other work to do, but part of her really wanted to go.

“She’s really pretty, isn’t she?” Gary sighed, following Ava’s line to sight to Sara.

“Do you have a musical question, Gary?” Ava asked, looking Gary in the eyes. At first Ava hadn’t understood why Gary was on third viola desk, as he was an exceptional musician, but it had soon become clear that he had a couple of issues when it came to appropriate personal space, something Ava was very fond of having as much of as possible.

“I mean, you have perfect bone structure, but she does have pretty eyes,” Gary said, lost in his own thoughts.

“What do you want, Gary?” Ava asked, wishing she didn’t sound quite so harsh, but sometimes Gary reminded her of a nuisance child, and addressing him in such a tone was the only way to get a proper response.

“Just to say that Ms Lance is kinda scary sometimes if you move things backstage or get in the way when they’re bumping stuff in or out, but also that she definitely probably has a crush on you because she never comes to orchestra rehearsals.”

“Gary, do you have somewhere else to be for the next few hours? Because maybe you could go and… do whatever that is.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. See you soon, Ms Sharpe!” Gary said, grinning as always, leaving Ava in the now almost-empty rehearsal studio. Ava looked around, mildly disappointed that Sara had left. She returned to the conductor’s platform, grabbed her score and baton, deciding to try to lose herself and quiet her thoughts in music in the warm-up room.


	6. Chapter 6

It seemed to Sara that whenever one of the elevators was out of order, it felt as though she had to wait ten times as long, rather than only twice as long for the other. Whatever maintenance that was happening would hopefully be finished before the afternoon’s matinee performance, but for now, Sara waited in the foyer, too lazy to walk down the four flights of stairs to the stage level.

“Oh, hey, Sara.”

“Hi Mona,” Sara said as Mona from the Box Office appeared beside her. “How are you going?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m good. I’m really good. Umm, quick question?” Mona asked.

“Fire away,” Sara said. Double-show Wednesdays were always hectic, but Sara felt ready for whatever the day threw at her including whatever the reason was that Mona was undoubtedly following her.

“Umm, do you know anything about what’s going on?”

“You’re gunna have to give me a little bit more than that,” Sara said.

“Oh, ok, yeah,” Mona said. “Umm, about the ticketing system?”

“Nothing at all,” Sara replied honestly. “Is there something I should know?”

“I think it’s still all hush-hush,” Mona said. The elevator arrived and the doors opened, but Sara let it go, more interested in whatever Mona had to say. If Mona was seeking her out like this, then something must be up.

“What’s been going on?” Sara asked in conspiratorial tones.

“Ok,” Mona said, excited Sara was willing to listen. “So, usually whenever IT are updating the booking system, we get a week’s notice because it really does mess things up for us for a couple of hours, because there’s a whole lot of sections of it that we can’t use.”

“Ok,” Sara said, not sure where Mona was going.

“Anyway, they were doing something to the system this morning. And we had no warning.”

“So…?”

“They never do random updates. All the shows for next season is already there, even though they’re not ‘live’ for the general public to see, and we know tickets for the spring season become available at the end of March, and there’ll be an update then, but this isn’t that.”

“Ok,” Sara said, starting to wish Mona would get to the point. “So, what do you think IT were doing to the database this morning?”

“Adding another show, of course,” Mona whispered.

Sara grinned, her eyes widening with understanding. She’d have to probe a couple of contacts in other departments, but she had a feeling her suspicious would be proved correct. “Mona, have you seen _Chess_?” she asked, knowing that the remained of the run was sold out.

“Well, no, unfortunately, but now I - ”

“Do you want to? This week?”

“It’s completely sold out,” Mona said. “Half my job at the moment is fielding calls from people having to tell them that there are absolutely no tickets available but after what’s been happening with IT now I don’t know what to tell people and…”

“Stick to the party line until you get official advice,” Sara said. “I know there’s only a few shows left this week, but if you want to sit next to me, you’re welcome to. I know side-stage isn’t the traditional view, but…”

“Really? Oh my gosh, Sara, thank-you. That would be brilliant. Can I come tonight?” Mona gushed.

“Sure,” Sara said with a smile, pushing the button again for the elevator. “And thanks for the update. Always nice to know how things are tracking in other departments.”

Sara soon settled at her desk side-stage, enjoying the peace and quiet of the huge, cathedral-like space before everyone else drifted in over the next hour, and the chaos and excitement of the approaching showtime built. Sara was getting used to the way Ava would approach her desk side-stage, something which was slowly becoming more regular.

“Ava, hi!” Sara said with a smile and leant back in her chair as Ava approached her small side-stage desk. When Ava was directly backstage, she almost crept around as though she was in a library. “What can I do to help?”

“I have a stupid question which will probably get a stupid answer,” Ava said, keeping her hands clasped behind her back to stop herself from picking at her nails and hoped Sara wouldn’t notice how uncomfortable she felt.

“Fire away,” Sara said.

Ava looked around, but the stage was all but deserted. “How does gossip work? Around here, I mean. Of course I know what it is and how it works generally but every workplace has it’s own - structure? Unofficial, umm….”

“Why?” Sara asked with a mischievous grin, wondering if Ava had heard rumours along the same line as the information Mona had told her. “What do you know?”

“What? Oh, no no, I - I don’t… umm…”

Sara smiled kindly. “Ok, so there’s a bit of a system. First there’s the spreaders. If you have something and you want it spread around, tell Charlie or Zari or someone from their teams. Especially Zari. They each spend a lot of time with the cast and the crew, and when getting costumes fitted or wigs put on or make-up done, everyone fills the time by talking. Plus Charlie and Zari are smart and reliable sources. Cisco over at the mic desk is also good for gossip, as he picks it up when mic-ing people up, then shares it over cans with the crew. Kara Danvers is the kindest, most beautiful person who would do anything for anyone, but she cannot keep a secret to save herself, so if you tell her not to tell anyone something, everyone will know in no time. Your man Gary in violas is a spreader, but he’s unreliable, so you have to watch whatever he comes out with.”

“I feel like I should be taking notes,” Ava said.

Sara laughed. “You’ll get the hang of it. As well as the spreaders, you have the founts of knowledge. People with first or second-hand information that probably hasn’t done the rounds yet. Often production meetings themselves can be a good source of official information, which is then disseminated to the masses via the spreaders, but the founts of knowledge have more unofficial or unannounced stuff. Ray can be a good source, as his wife works in Education and Outreach, but her office is in the same space as Marketing. Gideon is great, but - ”

“I don’t think Gideon likes me,” Ava interrupted.

“Have you emailed her about going to morning class?”

“Yes, but she hasn’t replied,” Ava said, screwing up her face. She found Gideon more intimidating than she would like to admit, and tried to put the lack of response down to Gideon being busy and not just ignoring her.

“She will. She’s impressed by your conducting,” Sara said, knowing that Gideon wasn’t the only one yet to be won over by Ava, as the majority of the time, when she wasn’t conducting or speaking with the orchestra, she maintained her cold, hard exterior, though she was allowing Sara to glimpse pass. Suddenly, it dawned on Sara what this was all about, and it wasn’t related to Mona’s news. Gideon had noticed. Charlie had noticed. Gary in violas had noticed, and no doubt others had too. “Look, Ava, there’s always something going on around here,” Sara said, trying to sound reassuring as her stomach flipped. She had no idea what Ava’s take on this particular strand of gossip might be, but word of the two of them here and now would only add oxygen to the flames of such rumours, and Sara realised that she didn’t care. “This place practically runs on adrenaline, sugar and gossip, and sometimes they’re the same thing. It’s usually pretty harmless, and people move onto the next thing very quickly.”

Ava gave a stiff nod. “Well, it’s certainly peculiar adjusting to working for an extended period of time in such a big complex when you’re used to guest conducting here and there.”

“I’m sure it is,” Sara said. “But you - ”

“Hey Sara, Cisco gave me all these cables and I think Behrad gave them to him and usually I know what they’re from but I have no idea why we have all these cables floating around and it’s making me a bit nervous that something’s been un-patched that shouldn’t have been. Or Behrad found these somewhere and maybe they don’t even belong in this theatre? Oh, hi, Ava.”

“Hi Ray,” Ava said. “I will leave you to your mystery cables.”

“Ok, I - ” Sara didn’t get the chance to finish before Ava had disappeared, no doubt to her dressing room to get ready for the afternoon’s performance. Sara turned back to Ray with the crate of cables and sighed. “This better be one heck of a good mystery,” she said, leading the way across the stage to find Cisco, Ray following completely oblivious to what he had interrupted.

…

The rest of the week flew by, mostly because they were performing two shows a day with both _Chess_ and the ballet mixed-bill playing on the Main Stage. Watching snippets of the final performance of _Chess_ , Sara realised she was going to miss the production more than most. She liked Kara and Barry singing along to _Merano_ in the wings beside her desk while Barry waited for his cue and Kara passed the first act. Sara liked watching Kara get angry in character, Sam belting out the finale, Ray singing over cans, and Ava’s passion while conducting. Of course, Ava would still be there, and she was just as good conducting the ballet, but this show felt special, perhaps because it was Ava’s first at the Metropolis Arts Centre.

“Hey, Ava?” Sara said, grabbing Ava’s wrist as Ava walked past her desk after their final bows to rapturous applause and a standing ovation. The cast were already celebrating on their way off-stage while crew members seemed to materialise from everywhere to begin the bumping-out process.

Ava squeezed in beside Sara’s desk so as not to get caught up in the stream of excited chorus members. “Is everything all right?” Ava asked.

“Umm, yeah, fine,” Sara said, suddenly feeling flustered. “Hey, umm, a bunch of us always go to this bar called The Viking that’s just up the block from the theatre on final opera nights for a beer and some supper. You’re welcome to tag along, if you’d like.”

“Oh, I - umm…”

“I don’t know if the orchestra have plans, or…?”

Ava didn’t know if the orchestra had plans either. If they did, they hadn’t invited her. “Yes,” Ava said, not entirely sure why she was agreeing to this. “I mean, yes I would be happy to come along to The Viking.”

Sara grinned. The last of the cast members had left the stage, and Mick was bringing down the lighting rigs. “Great. It’s run by a couple of Danish guys and it’s all Scandinavian beers, but don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t end up with one of the more obscure ones that are really an acquired taste.”

“Oh, great. Thanks.”

“And the meatballs are really good. And the open sandwiches. It’s pretty much Danish tapas, if that was a thing,” Sara continued, not sure why she was sounding as though she was still trying to convince Ava when she had already agreed to come.

“I’m guessing you need to do something with all - that - first?” Ava said, nodding towards the stage.

“Yeah,” Sara said. “I don’t know if you have anything to do, but we’ll be about half an hour? Compared to other shows, it’s not a very complicated set to disassemble. Meet us back here?”

“Ok,” Ava said, giving Sara a smile before making her way back to the pit to collect her score. The pit was almost completely cleared out, Behrad had stacked up all the chairs, and was in the process of folding up the music stands and packing them into the crates. It didn’t matter that the orchestra would be back within 48 hours; the ballet mixed-bill required a different number of players and thereby a different configuration in the pit, and the cleaners would be in to vacuum the floor.

Ava returned side-stage exactly half an hour later, her coat hanging over her arm and bag slung over her shoulder. The crew were just finishing up, she could hear a truck rumbling away and the big roller door closing. Ava lurked near Sara’s desk, hoping Sara would re-emerge, and wondering if going for a drink with the crew was really the right thing to do. She suspected that the orchestra did have plans, but whatever they were they had not been made known to her.

“Hey, Ava! One minute, ok?” Sara called, walking onto the stage from the opposite side and kneeling down at one of the trapdoors.

Ava didn’t see the sense in responding as Sara didn’t seem to be listening or paying any attention to her as she and Ray examined something inside the trapdoor. A moment later they stood up, talking about something technical no doubt, then Sara made her way over to her desk.

“I think we’re good to go,” she said.

“Right. Yeah,” Ava said. “Good.”

“You hungry?” Sara asked, grabbing her coat and bag.

“I am, actually,” Ava said. “Conducting can feel like a bit of a marathon sometimes.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Sara said, leading the way away from the stage.

“You don’t need to lock up?”

“Nah, security staff do that. Mick’s usually last crew member out. As soon as I’m gone, he kicks anyone left out real quick, and turns off the lights. He’ll be minutes behind us to the bar, at most.”

“Oh,” Ava said, learning more about the crew all the time. A few minutes later she and Sara were stepping out of the freezing February night into the warm, homely atmosphere of The Viking. Ava had a beer pressed into her hand before she could remove her coat, and ended up seated beside Sara at one of the long benches. Much like the drinks, food appeared in front of them, and Ava wasn’t sure who was ordering or paying. She supposed there was a tab, but didn’t know who was picking it up, so wasn’t sure who to offer money to, but certainly didn’t want to the crew to think she was free-loading.

Ava was soon on to her third (or was it fourth?) beer, and had long since lost count how many meatballs she’d eaten. Charlie and Zari were making out in the corner, Mick was telling loud, exaggerated tales at the bar, and Ray and Nora were engaged in conversation as though they hadn’t spoken to one another for weeks. Sara and Ava had ended up talking with a couple of Norwegian backpackers who had come to the bar looking for a sense for home after weeks in the States.

“And now we take you ladies to some clubs, yes?” the backpacker with a big blonde beard asked.

“Oh, sorry, you’re not really my type,” Ava said, taking a cool sip of her drink.

“No? You don’t like nice handsome men?”

“Not the ‘men’ part, no,” Ava said, the drink giving her confidence.

Sara was surprised she managed to swallow her drink without choking, and looked askance to hide a smirk.

The crew finished at the bar shortly before midnight, all declaring they were too old to continue on any longer. Just because _Chess_ had wrapped, the ballet mixed bill was still very much in progress, though they all had the following day off, which for most of them was their first day off in over a week. They quickly said their farewells, as the night was threatening snow. Sara climbed into a cab with Zari and Behrad, as they all lived in the same direction.

“So, did you ask her out properly?” Zari asked, Behrad having quickly fallen asleep beside her.

“What? No,” Sara said.

“It’s none of my business, but you totally should. And dinner at the cafeteria going over notes totally doesn’t count.”

Sara smirked. “How did you notice anything when you were snogging Charlie most of the time?”

“I didn’t need to see you at the bar; everyone’s been watching you two for weeks,” Zari said.

“And how did you know she… likes girls?”

“Oh please,” Zari said. “It’s theatre-land and we already have our token-straight in pretty-boy Barry Allen. And have you seen her shoes? She might as well have been wearing a rainbow-flag as a cape since she arrived. And I know that your previous relationship didn’t end wonderfully, but in the end, love is worth the risk.”

Sara gave a small smile and the cab pulled over in front of Zari and Behrad’s apartment. “I thought you said this was none of your business?” she asked as Zari tried to pull her coat out from under Behrad, poking him awake.

“It isn’t but when has that ever stopped me before? Talk to her,” Zari said, forcing Behrad out into the cold night. “She’ll say yes.”

“See you Tuesday.”

“See ya, boss. Text her. Ask her out!”

“Are you talking about how Sara and Ava totally need to - ?”

Zari closed the taxi door before Sara could hear the end of Behrad’s question.

…

Ava stood looking out the large floor-to-ceiling windows of her apartment. She’d showered and changed into her pyjamas as soon as she’d gotten home, and now gazed out over the city with a glass of water in hand, while Kitty Parker loafed on the kitchen island bench, watching Ava and wondering when she’d go to bed.

It had been a very long time since Ava had been invited for post-show drinks, and even longer since she’d accepted, though she had the feeling that she would now accept almost anything that Sara Lance asked. More than that, she _wanted_ to do whatever it was that Sara did.

“Damn,” Ava breathed, realising what this feeling was. She hadn’t intended to come to like Metropolis as a city, or start to feel so comfortable in the Arts Centre, and she certainly hadn’t intended to fall for any of it’s citizens. Ava finished her water, left her glass in the sink and scooped up Kitty Parker. “Come on, Kitty,” Ava said, placing the cat over her shoulder. “Let’s try and get some sleep.”


	7. Chapter 7

Ava was grateful for the sleep in and that she woke without a hangover to Metropolis covered by thick, dark clouds with sleet drenching the city. She was glad she didn’t have to go anywhere or do anything, and appreciative that the weather forced her to stay in too. Before she had finished her breakfast of bacon and eggs and a strong cup of coffee, she received a message from her apartment building’s reception desk that a parcel had been delivered. As soon as Ava was dressed, she took the elevator down the 16 levels to collect her parcel, knowing before she got there that it was the latest new-release book in her favourite thrilling murder-mystery series. Kitty Parker was more than happy to curl up in Ava’s lap as they lay on the couch, Ava feeling content with her cat, a second cup of coffee, the new book, and awful weather outside.

At lunchtime, Ava checked her emails, excited to see a response from Gideon, apologising for not getting back to her sooner, and saying that Ava was more than welcome to attend class or rehearsals whenever she wished. Ava couldn’t help but wonder if Sara had anything to do with Gideon’s response, and wondered for a moment what Sara did on her days off, before returning to her instant mi goreng and gripping novel.

The following morning Ava arrived at morning class at exactly ten-past nine for a nine-fifteen start, just as Gideon had said in her email. Though Gideon wasn’t exactly warm towards Ava, she greeted her politely and sat beside her during class. Throughout the class Gideon would point out certain dancers to her and make comments, but Ava struggled to keep up with the ballet-French terminology and mostly just nodded in agreement so Gideon wouldn’t think she was stupid.

Once class had ended, Gideon went to speak to a group of dancers, and Ava decided to introduce herself to the rehearsal pianist.

“I have heard a lot about you,” Nate said with a grin, shaking her hand. “Don’t worry, it’s all positive.”

“Thanks,” Ava said. She’d seen Nate around a number of times over the past month, but apart from realising he was something to do with the Ballet Company, she hadn’t worked out exactly who he was. She was beginning to think that Rip’s introduction to the Metropolis Arts Centre had been very poor indeed, almost introducing her exclusively to the orchestra and orchestral administration team, and very few of the myriad of others with whom Ava now found herself in contact with on a regular basis. “To be honest, I’m rather new to conducting ballet. I’ve done plenty of choral works and stage musicals, but _Cirque de Soleil_ is as close as I’ve got to dance.”

“You’ve conducted _Cirque de Soleil_?” Nate asked, wide-eyed and genuinely impressed.

Ava nodded, feeling shy and not wanting to boast or come across as a show-off. “A couple of their West Coast tours, yeah.”

“That is awesome,” Nate said. “Don’t worry about ballet, any questions about anything, just ask. Doesn’t matter if it’s about the music or the dancers or anything else. I saw the dress-and-tech rehearsal for the mixed bill and you were great, so you’ll only get better as you get used to the lingo and the way the company works.”

“Thanks,” Ava said, welcoming the encouragement from a fellow musician. “Would you mind if I asked you a couple of questions now? About the music. I’m trying to understand some of your music choices, and how fast you knew to go and… unless you have something else to do or…?”

“Now is fine,” Nate said, scooting along the piano bench to give Ava room to sit beside him. “I’m not needed in rehearsals until 11:30, so we’ve got plenty of time. Where do you want to start?”

…

It took Sara almost a week to get her act together and bring herself to ask Ava out. She was so used to casual hook-ups, but knew she wanted more than that with Ava, and the thought was a little overwhelming.

They were half-way through a double-show Saturday, having completed the matinee, and with a break before the evening performance, Ava had joined the crew for dinner in the cafeteria. She was slowly becoming more comfortable around them all and dining in the cafeteria with them whenever they had a two-show day.

“Hey, Ava?” Sara asked as they were making their way backstage, Ava to her dressing room to freshen up, and Sara side-stage to triple-check everything was reset for the show.

“Yeah?” Ava asked, falling into step with Sara.

“Would you like to get lunch?” Sara asked, the words coming out very quickly. “With me? Some time next week?”

“Tomorrow is 2:30 show time, Monday we finally have the day off, so Tuesday? What’s your start time?” Ava asked. “Rehearsal should finish by midday, so…?”

“I don’t mean in the cafeteria,” Sara said, grateful they were still in a public part of the theatre with flattering, soft golden lighting which hid the fact that she was blushing, rather than the practical fluorescent lights which lit up the backstage rabbit warren. “I mean somewhere nice. Like a date. Specifically a date, actually.”

“Oh, oooh,” Ava said, blushing slightly, also grateful for the lights as they approached the disguised door leading backstage. “Yes? I’m guessing you’re suggesting lunch because our jobs mean dinner is pretty much never an option?”

“Exactly,” Sara replied. “There’s a nice, kinda expensive Italian place a block away, if you like that sort of thing?”

“Yeah, I know the one. I’ve walked past it a few times. That sounds nice,” Ava said. “Meet there at half-past twelve?”

“I’ll make a booking and send you the details,” Sara said, scanning her pass and opening the door.

“Ok, great,” Ava said. “Just a warning that I haven’t been on a date in… quite a while, but I…”

“Neither have I,” Sara said with an encouraging smile, holding the door open for Ava, “So we can not know what we’re doing together.”

…

The problem with lunch dates, Sara thought, especially when your work day commenced at half-past two, was being unable to drink. She considered having one drink during their meal, but sitting at the bar, sipping a mocktail, however nice it was, didn’t really give the same confidence boost. Sara hoped Ava would get here before another stiff in a suit from one of the city’s many corporate buildings, or some IT nerd in a blue-checked shirt and hoody tried hitting on her. She looked back at the door and saw Ava enter and hand her coat to the doorman before making her way over to the bar.

“Wow,” Sara said, unable to look away from Ava wearing a dark blue-green blouse with sheer sleeves and her black suit-pants.

“It’s just a blouse,” Ava said, blushing. “I know it’s not my usual black or white dress shirt, but…”

“I like it. Colour looks good on you. And your hair out,” Sara smiled.

“Oh,” Ava said, dropping her gaze and blushing while she pushed her hair back behind her ears. She didn’t often wear it out in long, soft curls unless she was with her family, and realised that Sara wouldn’t have known quite how long it was.

“I like it. It’s nice,” Sara said, wishing she’d made a little more effort, wearing just her usual theatre blacks. “Do you want a drink?”

“Oh, no no. No drinking and conducting.”

“This is a mocktail.”

“Then I will have one, please.”

Sara signalled the barman for a drink for Ava, and a waiter came and showed them to their table.

“And I’m sorry I’m a bit late. We had first rehearsal with just the strings for _Manon Lescaut_ , and I got caught up talking to the double-bassists afterwards. And then Gary from viola section wanted to talk to me, and… they’re all a little bit needy? I think? Did - I don’t want to speak disparagingly or anything, but did Rip ever actually talk to the players?”

Sara shrugged as they took their seats. “I don’t know, but I kind of doubt it. He may have spoken with the section leaders, but Rip wasn’t exactly inclusive or engaging towards people generally, so I suppose he was like that with the orchestra too.”

“You don’t really know?” Ava asked, confused as Sara seemed to know everything.

“I could draw you Rip’s idea of the hierarchy of the Metropolis Arts Centre, and I can assure you, the crew is a very long way down.”

“Oh,” Ava said, as the waiter placed her drink in front of her and handed them both a menu. “Well, I - that must have been really annoying for you. Because working in a theatre, no crew, no show, right?”

“Exactly,” Sara said, opening her menu, wishing everything could feel as natural as it did when they were eating in the cafeteria, rather than somewhat stiff and formal like it did now.

“Oh, sorry, you probably don’t want to talk about work. We won’t talk about work, otherwise this will end up becoming a production meeting, and not a - umm…”

Sara smiled kindly. “Ava, we’re a couple of theatre nerds. Maybe I’m just boring, but it’s pretty much my whole life. If you want to talk about theatre and music stuff, that is fine with me.”

“Ok, great,” Ava said, relaxing a little and opening her menu. “We should probably order.”

“Yeah,” Sara said, watching as a lock of hair fell across Ava’s face, and Ava tucked it back behind her ear. They ordered a selection of mixed olives, a cured meats board and a margarita wood fired pizza to share. Before long their table was full of food, and they had to rearrange their glasses and plates so that everything would fit.

“Dream role that would need to be gender-flipped for you to perform?” Sara asked. Since they didn’t need to talk about what they did for a living, each understanding the other’s job completely, instead they’d started asking somewhat standard first-date questions, though with a decidedly musical twist.

“Mark from Rent,” Ava said without hesitation. “You?”

“Damn, you’ve thought about that,” Sara said, taking a sip of her re-filled drink. “Enjolras from _Les Mis_. He has some great lines, and gets a super dramatic death every show.”

“I can imagine you in the shirt-sleeves and red military vest,” Ava said then blushed. “Uh - I mean…”

Sara laughed. “It’s ok, I can imagine you with the scarf and video camera.”

“Also I conducted that for nearly 18 months.”

“What, _Les Mis?”_

“A couple of years ago, yeah,” Ava said. “West Coast tour.”

“That is awesome,” Sara said. “Ok, if you had to have an onstage part in _Chess_ , any part, which one would you play?”

“Ooh,” Ava said, taking a moment to think. “I do like _Embassy Lament_ , it’s such a fun song and cameoing in that would be fun. But a major role - well, the only real options are Florence or Svetlana, right? Florence is the obvious choice, as she is the real protagonist, even though most people think it’s Anatoly. She has some excellent numbers, including the _Anthem_ reprise right at the end. But then Svetlana has _Someone Else’s Story_ , and maybe I just like it because Kara is phenomenal? Plus she does get the duet with Florence, and that line in _Endgame_ \- ”

“The ‘I won’t crawl…’ line which Kara just about yells and is super powerful?”

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Ava said. “Maybe the role seems more attractive because Kara is such a powerhouse? Not that Sam is lacking as Florence by any means, they are an outstanding pair of leading ladies. But it is a tough choice.”

“Is it weird that I ship them?”

“Kara and Sam?”

“What? No,” Sara laughed. “Florence and Svetlana. They should forget about Anatoly and run off back to England together. Maybe Sam and Kara do give the characters more spark with each other than is usually there, but…?”

“It’s not completely crazy, I’ll give you that,” Ava said.

“Next question: dream whatever to conduct,” Sara asked, taking an olive from the bowl. She realised she was the one asking most of the questions, but Ava always asked her the same thing in return, so she didn’t mind. “Opera, ballet, musical, orchestral something. Anything.”

“It’s a bit of a list,” Ava admitted. “I love Tchaikovsky, and have conducted a few of his works. The second movement of the fifth symphony is so luscious and you end up swinging along to it. Doing Messiah pre-Christmas is always fun. I’m looking forward to doing more full ballets and operas, because I’ve conducted a lot of suites and overtures and arias, but very few all the way through. I’d love to do more Wagner, even though all of his stuff is pretty much a musical marathon. And, of course, it’s on everyone’s list, but Mahler 8. That would be… that would really be something. Doing a whole Mahler cycle would be great, but if I had to pick just one, it would be the Symphony for a Thousand.”

“Nice choices,” Sara said. “You look like you have more to add.”

“I have so much more to add,” Ava said, enjoying the topic and taking a piece of prosciutto.

“The floor is yours,” Sara grinned, finding she was happy to listen to Ava talk.

“You really don’t mind me rambling on about this? Because I’ll probably end up getting technical, and - ”

“Go for it,” Sara smiled, taking a piece of pizza as Ava launched into a spiel about the more technical details of her favourite musical and orchestral pieces. When conducting, or talking about conducting, it was like Ava was a different person to the stiff, formal persona she presented at productions meetings and in general around the theatre. If everyone could see her like this, Sara thought, then they all might fall in love. She quickly grabbed her drink and hoped that Ava didn’t see her blush as she pushed the thought aside.

“And what about you?” Ava asked, having a drink and picking up a slice of pizza. “Any dream productions to manage? Is that a thing? Is that how it works?”

Sara laughed. “Not quite, but I get what you mean. Probably _Phantom of the Opera_. Not many productions where you get to say ‘stand-by chandelier’. But as for shows that we perform on the Main Stage? My favourite is probably _The Nutcracker_. The Act 1 transformation scene is hard, but when you pull it off perfectly, that sense of achievement, knowing that the audience just had this seamless, magical experience while you’re calling cues non-stop for the duration of it… it’s pretty great. I love doing the ballets. You know I used to dance, right?”

“No,” Ava said. “As a kid?”

“Well, yeah. And with the National City Ballet Company,” Sara said as casually as she could.

“Seriously?” Ava asked, completely taken by surprise.

Sara nodded, taking an olive and a piece of salami. “I did high school at the Star City Ballet School, which is practically a subsidiary of the National City Ballet School. As soon as I finished senior year, I was picked up by the NCBC. For the first two years, everything was great, I was dancing hard, partying hard, and then… I ended up needing four surgeries in five years. I remember lying in hospital after that last injury thinking, if this keeps up, by the age of 30 I’m not going to be able to walk. So I had a long talk with the NCBC Artist Director, and we both decided that it was in my best interests not to continue dancing professionally.”

“I’m so sorry,” Ava said. “I had no idea. That must have been awful.”

“Yeah, it was pretty tough and I guess I don’t talk about it much,” Sara said. “Though in a way, I kind of fell on my feet.”

“How do you mean?” Ava asked, catching Sara’s eye before Sara gave a nod for Ava to take the last slice of pizza.

“When I started at the NCBC, I was also enrolled in a Fine Arts degree majoring in Production at National City University,” Sara explained. “It’s encouraged that the young dancers at the company study something part-time at NCU, plus they cover some of the tuition fees. With a college degree and six years performing in a professional ballet company, folks at NCBC was able to pull some strings, and got me in touch with Gideon. I flew over to Metropolis and met her, mind you I still had my leg in a brace at the time, and, well, I’ve never looked back.”

“That was lucky,” Ava said.

“I was super lucky,” Sara said. “I was a production assistant with the ballet company for a couple of years, assistant stage manager for two years, and have been stage manager for just over twelve months now, after our former stage manager got an ongoing gig in a West End theatre in London.”

“Very lucky,” Ava said, relieved that everything had worked out for Sara even though she hadn’t know her at the time. “Though lots of hard work, too. Professional ballet is not for the faint-hearted.”

“Not at all,” Sara said. “Even less though once you’re battling injuries. How did you end up conducting?”

“At school I was always a huge music nerd,” Ava said. “I was in band, orchestra, choir, musicals. If it involved music or singing, I was part of it. Classes which weren’t music or drama were really just a filler between those that were. I always knew I’d end up in classic music somehow, even if my family would have preferred that I’d taken a more stable, traditional career. I think I was junior year when I realised that conducting could be a real job, and I do like being in charge, so it seemed like it might be a good fit.”

“Do you play an instrument?” Sara asked.

“I have grade 8 violin, grade 5 piano and voice, and grade 3 French horn.”

“Oh, so you’re just a little bit talented, then.”

“Says the professional ballerina.”

“Former professional ballerina,” Sara said. “And that is one skill. You have three instruments and you can sing. And conduct!”

Ava smiled and blushed, not used to the praise. “Once I decided that I wanted to conduct, I decided I had to go to the Juilliard School. Even though my high school was in a nice part of Fresno, I don’t think anyone had ever gone to New York for college, let alone the Juilliard School, so my teachers were keen to make sure I had plenty of more ‘realistic’ second options. But there was no second option. Not really. I knew to do the Masters in Music to do orchestral conducting, and to get into that you need a bachelor of music degree, so I got into the bachelor course with violin.”

“So you’re not just good, you’re exceptional,” Sara said.

Ava felt bashful. She was used to people telling her not to show off, or brag, not someone listening to and really appreciating her work and achievements. “For all that study and over ten years of experience, I still don’t have a permanent position,” she shrugged.

“One day that will change,” Sara said. “In the orchestral conducting world, you’re practically an intern until you’re at least 60.”

Ava chuckled. “Well, at least I’ll be here for the next few months.”

“Have you heard the rumours?” Sara asked.

“Is there some way to keep up with the rumours here?” Ava asked. “Because the whole time, everyone knows something about someone or some thing and it is impossible to keep track of it all. Sorry, what I’m trying to say is, which rumour?”

Sara laughed. “The other week I spoke to Mona from box office. You know how we sold out the entire run of _Chess?_ ”

“Yes,” Ava said. “I thought that was a fact, not a rumour.”

“Oh, it is,” Sara said. “Long story short, she thinks they’re going to reprise it, probably after the end-of-season gala in July.”

“Is she a reliable source?” Ava asked.

“Yeah,” Sara said. “She’s keen, and wants to impress, so her information is always solid. Plus Nora said something at lunch one day last week about marketing team being up to something, and I think it will be preparation for that.”

“Do they reprise shows often?” Ava asked.

“Not since I’ve been here, that’s for sure,” Sara said. “But from what I’ve heard from a few people, everyone is really impressed with how the new conductor is going.”

Ava smiled, a warm feeling spreading through her body, and she hadn’t even had any alcohol. She checked the time on her watch. “Hey, umm… do you want to go back to my dressing room and…?”

“Oh, god yes,” Sara said, looking at their empty plates of food. “Are we done here? I think we’re done.”

“We’re done. Let’s pay and go.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sara said, standing up so quickly her chair almost fell over.


	8. Chapter 8

Ava lay in bed, unable to fall asleep, but also not exactly trying to either. Her mind was racing, filled with thoughts of Sara Lance. She wished that she and Sara had had the opportunity for more than just a passionate make-out session in her dressing room, but neither time nor circumstance allowed for much more. While Sara didn’t seem to have an qualms about the possibility of being caught in the act in the dressing room, Ava was a little more cautious and had learnt that closed doors backstage didn’t always account for much.

They had been texting one another since leaving the theatre after the evening’s show. Again, Ava found herself wishing she could have brought Sara home, or gone home with her, but neither of them seemed to know how to ask, and after their preliminary, fully-clothed limited exploration of one-another’s bodies (though Sara’s hands had found their way up the inside of Ava’s shirt extremely quickly, not to mention the fact that she was a very good kisser), they hadn’t had a moment where they were alone together.

Now Sara had said goodnight, and Ava knew she should go to sleep too. Kitty Parker lay stretched out beside her. Ava contemplated calling her mom and dad, as it wasn’t as late on the West Coast, but decided a quick message would suffice. Once she’d sent the message to her mom, Ava opened Safari and typed _Sara Lance ballet_ into the search bar.

A number of results appeared, though most were for NYBC Principal dancer Sara Mearns. Ava clicked on the images tab, hoping to recognise Sara Lance. There weren’t many pictures of her Sara, as Sara’s career had been constantly interrupted and ultimately cut short by injury, but Ava couldn’t help but grin at the photo of Sara in a flowing, lilac dress, with sequins and beads around the top, and a sparkling floral headpiece in her hair. Ava had never seen Sara wear anything but black clothes and heavy boots, but to see photos of her mid-step, in pointe shoes and pink tights and tutus or pretty dresses was a glimpse into the whole other life Sara had led and been forced to leave behind.

There were a couple of videos from the NCBC, and Ava quickly established that Sara was in the corps de ballet in all of them. Watching the Waltz of the Snowflakes from _The Nutcracker_ , Ava felt as though every time she spotted Sara amongst the dancers, she lost her again the moment they changed positions. From the moments she did catch, she marvelled at Sara’s fine, skilled movements, at her lyricism and finesse. She watched it again to better follow Sara through the dance, then turned off the screen and put her phone aside, knowing she could lose hours watching Sara dance if she let herself. Ava reached down to pat Kitty Parker’s head.

“Would you mind if she came for a sleepover?” Ava asked. “I know we didn’t come here to make friends, let alone whatever Sara and I are now, but… I don’t know, Kitty. We finish up here in July, then I guess we’ll go back to California, right? But for now… I just have to see where this goes. I want to see where it goes. Things will work out the way they’re supposed to, even if I’m feeling very anxious, right? Right. Good chat,” Ava said, giving Kitty one more pat on the head before tucking her arm under the covers and rolling onto her side, wishing she didn’t feel quite so insecure about everything.

…

As soon as Sara received the email saying there was going to be a staff meeting for all Main Stage crew, opera and orchestra members at 12:15 in the Main Stage auditorium, she guessed exactly what it was about. She had planned to arrive at the theatre right on midday regardless as it was a double-show day, and once she got down to the theatre level she dumped her bag and coat on her seat side-stage, and had a little wander through the quiet backstage area, checking everything was in place. Of course Metropolis Arts Centre Director Wilbur Bennett would want to address them like this, Sara thought, spotting Cisco and Ray on the other side of the stage fiddling with the hand-held microphones. Bennett liked nothing more than the opportunity to get up on stage, despite being completely devoid of charisma or artist ability.

“Hey, Sara?”

Sara turned to see Kara Danvers lurking near the door. “Hey, Kara. What’s up?” Sara asked with a smile.

Kara pursed her lips and shuffled her weight awkwardly from one food to the other. “Have you heard the rumours?”

“About the announcement?”

“Oh, I know it’s about the _Chess_ reprisal,” Kara said, looking everywhere but at Sara.

“Why are you not sounding thrilled? Another three weeks playing Svetlana will be awesome. Unless you and Lena had some big vacation plans you have to change?”

Kara shook her head. “We’re not going anywhere until August, but… some people are saying that Lena 'bought’ the extended run. That she paid for it to happen. Or something. But that it’s not true because the show was that good, but because me and her… you know, people are saying… but Lena isn’t even a supporter of the opera anymore to remove the conflict of interest. She’s a personal patron of the ballet company and both the orchestras, and yes the Luthor Foundation is a major sponsor of the opera, but Lena doesn’t have any say in that and… have you heard anything about this?”

“No,” Sara said. “Rumours like that haven’t made it down to stage level.”

Kara nodded. “Lena would never buy me a role…”

“And everyone who’s important knows that. If the people saying those things had ever met Lena, they’d know she wouldn’t do that,” Sara said. “And even if she did, why would they care? This is great news for everyone, especially the casuals who can struggle to get extra work during the summer. Come here,” Sara said, wrapping her arms around Kara. “Don’t listen to that kind of shit, ok? They’re just jealous that they don’t have an awesome girlfriend, and you do.”

“Do you?” Kara asked, holding onto Sara.

“What?”

“Have a girlfriend? Didn’t you and Ava go on a date?”

“Maybe,” Sara said conspiratorially, “But it’s just dating for now.”

Kara let go of Sara. “She scares me a bit, but I think she’s nice.”

Sara smiled. “I think she’s nice too. If you hear anyone else talking shit about you and Lena, you send them my way and I’ll set them right, ok?”

Kara nodded. “Thank-you for always being my stand-in for Alex.”

“We all need our surrogate family from time to time,” Sara said. “You better go get a seat. Stick with Barry and Sam, they’ll look out for you too.”

As Kara opened the door to leave side-stage, Charlie entered, full of enthusiasm.

“Oh, hi Kara. Hi Sara! Oh, good, you are here,” Charlie said as Kara quietly said hello before letting herself out. “You know what this is about?”

“I sure think so,” Sara said. “You?”

“The possible reprisal of a certain boardgames-based musical?”

“Yep,” Sara chuckled.

“You’re in good spirits,” Charlie said. “Been snogging the conductor in dressing rooms again?”

Sara playfully hit Charlie on the arm.

“Hey, no judgement,” Charlie said. “Me and Z do it all the time before the cast show up. It’s just the right amount level privacy, but also the slight sense of risk that someone will walk in on you at any time. So, are you guys official, then?”

“I - we… it was lunch. It was very, very nice lunch, and then… yes, snogging in Ava’s dressing room, but no labels. Not yet.”

“Think you’ll do it again?”

“Which part?” Sara asked with a smirk. “But yes. Yes to doing it all again.”

“I’m so happy for you,” Charlie said as they stepped out into the rabbit warren of corridors where members of the opera company were making their way to the auditorium. “Really, Sara. Being happy looks good on you.”

Meanwhile, Ava was about to turn off the lights and lock the rehearsal studio, when she noticed that Gary was still loitering. “Come on, Gary, we need to get down to the Main Stage,” she said, feeling like an elementary school teacher rounding up the students for assembly.

“I’m coming, Ms Sharpe,” Gary said, slipping out of the door with his viola in its case slung over his shoulder and his sheet music threatening to spill out of his folder as Ava flicked off the lights and closed the door behind him.

Ava sighed, realising she was going to be stuck with Gary in the elevator. “Next rehearsal I want to talk to the violas about the bowing towards the end of Act I,” she said deciding to make technical conversation as they walked down the corridor. “It just looked a little awkward, and I think it could just be slightly rearranged to make it more comfortable.”

“It doesn’t matter if it looks wrong,” Gary said, pushing the button for the elevator, “No one sees us anyway.”

“I see you,” Ava said. “And just because no one sees something, doesn’t mean it has to be awkward or ugly. It would only take a couple of minutes to sort out if that. It was about eight bars, twelve at most that I though looked not quite right.”

“Did you have a date with Sara Lance?” Gary asked as the elevator arrived.

“What?” Ava asked blushing as they stepped inside. She to avoid Gary’s intense gaze.

“Because yesterday you looked so beautiful in that green blouse and with your hair out, but then you changed back into black and put your hair up for the show.”

“We’re professionals, Gary,” Ava said. “We wear black, and long hair gets in the way.”

“I’m shipping you guys, by the way.”

“You’re what?” Ava asked, wishing the elevator would move quicker.

“Shipping you and Sara,” Gary replied as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re so cute together; the badass Stage Manager and the exquisite Conductor. I think that - ”

“Personal space, Gary,” Ava said, cutting him off and taking half a step back. “And personal boundaries. Please.”

“Oh, of course,” Gary said as the elevator finally arrived at the theatre level. “And Ms Sharpe, I - ”

“Sorry, Gary it will have to wait. Find me before the show if it’s urgent.” Ava stepped out of the elevator as quickly as possible, happily getting caught up in the tail end of crew members and opera ensemble as they made their way into the auditorium. She saw Sara sitting with Charlie and Zari, and Sara waved to her. Ava felt butterflies in her stomach as she made her way along the aisle to sit with them. Sara moved over so that Ava could sit between her and Zari.

“You ok?” Sara asked. “You look kinda flustered.”

“Gary ‘ships’ us, if that’s a thing,” Ava muttered under her breath.

“Everyone ships you two,” Zari said quietly, giving Ava a pat on the leg. “Gary just makes it weird. But really, everyone just want you guys to be happy.”

“Wait, what do you mean by ‘everyone’?” Ava whispered when Wilbur Bennett stepped onto the stage. Cisco handed him a microphone.

“Hello everyone. Can you hear me? Is this loud enough?”

Ava felt everyone around her groan or roll their eyes. Of course the mic was on, and of course it was loud enough. This wasn’t a community centre, it was a world-class performing arts complex.

“Right, good. Thank-you Mr Palmer and Mr Ramon for getting all this sorted, and thank-you all for taking time out of your busy schedules to come down here. I’ll get straight to it. You all would be aware that the Metropolis Opera Company’s recent run of _Chess_ was completely sold out, and was met with great critical acclaim. Due to popular demand, it is my pleasure to announce that we will be hosting an encore three-week run from the beginning of July.”

There were excited murmurings and a scattering of applause from the audience, some of whom knew of the rumours of the encore season, and others who were hearing about it for the first time.

“The encore run cannot be extended beyond three weeks as you probably know we are having a new sound-system installed in the Main Stage, and require time to get that set up before the new season starts in September. I understand some of you may have to rearrange holidays, etcetera, but I’m sure we can make this work. You’ll all be receiving an email with further details shortly. This is very exciting for the Metropolis Opera Company, and I thank you all for your hard work. There will be a short press conference at 2pm when we will make this announcement public, and I ask if Mr Allen and Ms Arias could join me for that. Tickets will go on sale at 9am tomorrow, but I think it’s from 3 o’clock this afternoon the usual staff pre-sale code will work if you wish to buy tickets for family and friends. There’ll be more information in the email that is forthcoming. Right, well, I won’t keep you any longer. Have a good afternoon.”

Bennett handed the microphone back to Cisco and walked off stage. Slowly the auditorium came to life, with everyone talking at once, calling to friends, and clambering towards the partially hidden doors which led backstage as a shortcut to the staff cafeteria. Sara looked around and caught Kara’s eye. Kara smiled. No mention of Lena or any patrons in Bennett’s speech would help to quell the rumours that were worrying Kara. Sara smiled in return and turned back to her friends as they shuffled down the aisle.

“Well, that could have been an email,” Charlie said.

“Going to come and get lunch?” Sara asked, slipping her hand into Ava’s as they reached the door leading backstage.

Ava’s stomach tightened and she quickly pulled her hand out of Sara’s. “I’m going to go to the warm-up room,” Ava said quickly. “I - there’s something I want to practise.” She hurried away from the group as fast as she could, leaving Sara feeling rejected, though she did her best not to show it.

“What was that all about?” Charlie asked.

“I don’t know,” Sara muttered, no longer feeling like eating.

“Go after her,” Zari said.

Sara shook her head. “If she’s busy or wants to be left alone, then… let’s go get lunch, yeah?”

“The cafeteria is going to be busy,” Charlie said. “And I bet we won’t get a good table.”

“Behrad was sitting near the door. Maybe he’ll save us a seat?” Zari said.

“I think he was sitting with Gary though.”

Sara groaned.

“What?” said Charlie. “Come on, Gary’s not that bad. He means well, he just come across all wrong.”

“No, not that. Zari’s right,” Sara said. “Save me a seat if you can find one. I’m going to find Ava.”

Sara doubled back, weaving past the stragglers from the auditorium, making her way to Ava’s favourite warm-up room. She knocked on the door and opened it before waiting for a response. Sara stepped inside, closing the door gently behind herself, wondering just what had gone wrong and hoping she hadn’t accidentally screwed everything up. “I’m sorry I grabbed you hand,” Sara said nervously. “I - I don’t know how public you want to be, or if you want to be…?”

Ava spun around on the piano stool and reached her hand out towards Sara, which Sara took. “Sorry I panicked,” Ava said, looking distressed and pulling Sara closer. “I’m so sorry. I feel so stupid. I - I want this. I want to try and just… see where it goes. I panicked because I’m afraid of screwing things up, or that people will think… I don’t know. That you and I - that we shouldn’t…”

“No, that’s ok, I should have - ”

“I’m so sorry, Sara. I know I’m being awkward and weird and I - I…”

“Ava, if you’re worried because we both work under the same roof, then you shouldn’t be,” Sara said with a kind smile. “Almost everyone here is dating, married to or sleeping with someone else from within the Arts Centre. The fact that Barry Allen’s wife doesn’t work here is nothing short of a miracle. And technically, we work for different organisations. You’re employed by the Metropolis Opera and Ballet Orchestra, and I’m employed by the Metropolis Arts Centre. Is that the issue?”

“Sort of,” Ava sighed. “But I - I’ve never really done this. Moving to Metropolis for half the year is the first time in nearly three years that I’ve completely unpacked my suitcase. I come, I perform, I leave again. I’ve never stayed anywhere long enough to… well…”

“But you want to try? For now?” Sara asked, holding Ava’s gaze.

“And there’s a lot of… not stigma… I can’t think of the word right now, about women who sleep around. No one cares when men do it, but if a woman does… and only 5% of professional conductors are women. Five percent, Sara. That is tiny. And if you get a reputation… I’ve worked so hard…”

“I understand,” Sara said, squeezing Ava’s hands. “But this isn’t sleeping around, partly because we’re yet to sleep together, and partly because even when… or if, I guess, we do, we’re dating. That’s different, even if we do work under the same roof. Ava, look. We are two grown women, making our own choices about our careers and our lives, and maybe there’s a little bit of overlap, well, so be it. And if people want to talk about it? Well, they’re just jealous they’re not the ones snogging you in dressing-rooms.”

Ava nodded and swallowed, now holding both of Sara’s hands. “Thank-you for understanding.”

“Of course. We’ll do this our way, and we will work on communication and - ”

“And do we, as grown women, think that maybe a sleepover is in order?” Ava asked tentatively, aware that she’s cut Sara off.

Sara beamed. “Ava Sharpe. My place or yours?”

“Mine?” Ava suggested nervously. “I have to feed my cat.”

“Tonight?”

“Could we?”

“Yes,” Sara grinned. “And you have a cat?”

“Her name is Kitty Parker. She’s very sweet, I promise.”

“I am admittedly more of a dog person, but I have no issue with cats and will be happy to meet her,” Sara said. “Do you want to go get some lunch now so that we can - ”

“Hey, Sara, Ray’s looking for you, and - oh. Hi Ava,” Cisco finished awkwardly noticing the women standing very close to one another and holding hands.

“Hi Cisco,” Ava said, her voice sounding much higher than usual.

“I’m just gunna… back out of here slowly and close the door behind myself,” Cisco said, doing just that.

Sara laughed and gave Ava a peck on the lips. “I better go sort out my boys then I’ll come back here and we can go grab some lunch. I’m looking forward to that final closing of the curtains already.”


	9. Chapter 9

When Sara awoke, she could feel something warm against her feet. She looked up, and in the semi-darkness of Ava’s bedroom could see a little figure curled right in the middle of the end of the bed. Sara smiled, happy that Kitty Parker hadn’t been put off by her presence and had slept on the bed as usual. As quietly as she could, Sara slid out of bed and tip-toed around to the bathroom. On her return to the bed, Kitty Parker raised her head and looked at Sara.

“Hi,” Sara whispered to the cat. “I’d like to pat you, but you might run off, so I’ll just hop back in, ok? Ava’s right, you are pretty, and you’re a good foot-warmer.” Sara climbed back into the warm bed, careful not to kick Kitty or wake Ava. She smiled at the sight of Ava sleeping, her long blonde hair spilling across the pillow. Just as Sara was getting comfortable, Ava rolled over and opened her eyes.

“Hi,” Ava said, her voice thick with sleep.

“Hi,” said Sara. “Sorry if I woke you.”

“It’s ok. What time is it?”

Sara grabbed her phone and checked. “Almost nine.”

“We’ve slept in,” Ava said, rubbing her eyes.

“It’s a comfy bed,” Sara smiled. “You have a nice place. And we worked over ten hours yesterday.”

Ava stretched. “As much as I’d like to, I can’t take any credit for the apartment as it came with the furnishings.”

“Well, I like the silky sheets.”

“Thanks. Those are mine. What’s your call time today?”

“Four?” Sara said with a shrug. “Five? So long as I’m there by five.” Shorter work days helped to balance the longer ones, but Sara knew it wasn’t so easy for Ava, having to balance orchestral rehearsals as well. “You?”

“Rehearsals at 2:30,” Ava said.

“Still, we’ve plenty of time until then,” Sara said with a cheeky grin.

“I’m so sorry about last night,” Ava said, screwing up her face and pulling up the sheets. “I invite you over, then I fall asleep…”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Sara said, pulling the sheets back so she could look at Ava. “I started yawning first.”

“You’re right, it’s your fault,” Ava said.

Sara laughed. “It’s fine, really. I don’t want our first time to be rushed in the dressing room, or half-hearted because we’re both exhausted. I’m not saying I need things to be perfect, but it will all work out when it’s supposed to. Besides, what time did you start work yesterday?”

“Rehearsals started at half-past ten,” Ava said.

“And it was after ten pm when we left. You worked nearly a 12-hour day, Ava. Of course you were tired.”

“So you’re not worried that we… slept together without - you know… sleeping together?”

“Not at all,” Sara said, “I’m allowed to have a sleep-over that involves purely the act of actual sleep with my girlfriend.”

“Did you just call me your girlfriend?”

“Well, why not?” Sara asked with a grin.

“Yay,” Ava grinned.

Sara propping herself up onto her elbow, and thinking about how gorgeous Ava looked first thing in the morning. “If you’d like, we do have a little while now. Time to kill and all that.”

“Really?” Ava asked. “Ok. Yes. Yes, please. Ok, just let me go to the bathroom and feed Kitty Parker, then yes. Massive yes, please. Thank-you, babe.”

Sara beamed as Ava clambered out of bed, her long legs almost getting tangled in the sheets. Kitty Parker jumped up and trotted out of the room, leading Ava to the cupboard where the cat food was stored. Sara enjoyed listening to Ava coo over Kitty as she fed her, and it didn’t take long before Ava was climbing back into bed.

“Ok, so how - ” Ava began. Without knowing quite how she had done it or having time to register what was happening, Ava found herself flat on her back, with Sara straddling her hips, her hands on Ava’s waist.

“Is this ok?” Sara asked, her fingers gently pushing up Ava’s pyjama top to rest her hands against Ava’s skin.

“You’re taking charge?”

“Do you mind?”

Ava giggled, not minding at all. “I’ll make us breakfast once we’re done.”

“Deal,” Sara said, her thumbs slipping under the waistband of Ava’s pyjama pants. Ava laid her head back against pillow, relaxing into everything she was feeling, as Sara leant forward and kissed Ava on the neck.

…

Within days, the whole Arts Centre complex seemed to be aware that Sara Lance and Ava Sharpe, the guest conductor, were dating. Ava felt weightless, and stopped worrying if she and Sara held hands, or sat with their chairs closer than strictly necessary in the cafeteria. Whenever they were in a professional setting, such as production meetings, they maintained a professional standards, but Ava quickly realised that in production meetings she needed Sara to be sitting on the same side of the table as her, one seat down, so that Sara couldn’t pull faces or look at her with those lovely, deep blue eyes, or run her hand up Ava’s leg or play footsies under the table.

The following week, with encouragement and a gushing endorsement from Nate, Ava agreed to see Sophie, one of the ballet company’s physiotherapists. Ava attended most of the morning’s ballet class sitting with Gideon, slowly getting to know the dancers and to understand the language and short-hand used, before quietly slipping away for her session with Sophie. Ava spent the first ten minutes for the consultation talking to Sophie about her physical health and any aches, pains and stiffness she experienced, watching the time slip away, knowing they only had half an hour at most, and would rather something happen than just talk.

“Ok, if you want to take off your shirt and bra and hop up on the bed,” Sophie said casually. “I promise I have warm hands.”

“Umm…” Ava wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but for some reason had imagined keeping her clothes on.

“I’m going to give you a fifteen-minute neck and shoulder massage,” Sophie said. “You might not feel tight in that area, but I can tell by the way you’re sitting you’re carrying a lot of tension there. If nothing else, you will feel better afterwards. And everything is super-clean, promise.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Ava said, beginning to unbutton her shirt. Sophie turned to her computer and typed a couple of quick notes, allowing Ava a little privacy while she took off her bra and laid down on her stomach on the massage bed.

Sophie had hardly started when Ava made a very relaxed, involuntary noise. She blushed profusely, glad that Sophie couldn’t see her face and was professional enough to ignore the noise and keep working on the muscles at the base of Ava’s neck.

“So, have you worked here long?” Ava asked, deciding that general conversation might be preferable to the silence.

“Since January last year,” Sophie said, working her thumbs into a particularly tight spot. “I was in the military before then, as a physio but also did all the standard soldier training. When I first left I thought the transition back to civilian life would be difficult, but there’s a level of discipline, routine, and hierarchy in the ballet company that is really familiar, and I now I couldn’t imagine working anywhere else.”

“That’s good,” Ava said, unable to say much else as Sophie’s thumbs pressed into her right trapezius muscle, undoing knots Ava didn’t even realise she had. Sophie seemed aware that Ava wasn’t able to speak much, so she filled the silence by telling her about daily life in the ballet company’s physiotherapy department, talking about the general aches and pains that the dancers were most likely to experience, and how she and the rest of the medical team worked to prevent, alleviate and heal these.

“Well, that’s all for today,” Sophie said, stepping away from the bed and going to wash her hands. “But you are coming back next week, and the week after, and forever after that because damn, Ava, you are so tense and you will feel so much better once I’ve got you sorted out.”

Ava reluctantly sat up and pulled on her bra. Sophie’s massage had been a far cry from the gentle sort you get at a spa which almost put you to sleep; this had been quite painful and Ava had had to force herself from making any further involuntary noises. Though her arms now felt like jelly, her neck and shoulders felt freer than they had for a long time. All this after a couple of nights of Sara’s administrations too. Ava wondered just how tightly wound she’d been when she arrived in Metropolis.

“Are you going straight to rehearsals?” Sophie asked.

“No, I’ve got about an hour,” Ava said, checking at the time on the wall clock while she buttoned up her shirt.

“Good,” said Sophie. “It’s best to have a little break after the massage. Would you like a couple of quick and easy exercises you can do in your dressing room before and after shows? They’ll help loosen you up, especially before shows.”

“Please,” Ava said.

“I’ve got a sheet of them that was made up for Rip, so I’ll find that and email it to you.”

“Great,” Ava said. “Thank-you. For all of this.”

“It is literally my job,” Sophie chuckled. “But you’re welcome.”

Suddenly the door flung open and a sweaty blonde ballerina poked her head in. “Hey, Soph, love? Have you - oh, shit. So sorry. Sorry, Ava. Hi.”

“Hi,” Ava said, glad she was dressed, but had a feeling the woman was undressing again her with her eyes.

“I’m Julia. I don’t think we’ve met.”

“Only from a distance,” Ava said having seen Julia in class and on stage. She slid off the massage bed and tucked her shirt into her trousers. “But nice to meet you properly.”

“You too,” Julia said.

“I’m gunna go,” Ava said. “Thanks again, Sophie.”

“I’ll send you those exercises. And see you at the same time next week?”

“Definitely,” Ava said, “See you then.” She hurried out of the physio room, feeling flustered and nearly ran straight into Nate in the hallway.

“Ava!” Nate grinned.

“Hi,” Ava said.

“How’d it go with Sophie?”

“Excellent. I needed that more than I realised. I’m guessing class just finished?”

“Sure did,” Nate said. “Time for a coffee before rehearsals. Did Sophie give you a message?”

“Just a quick one. Everything hurts but feels great at the same time?”

Nate chuckled. “Yeah, we’re really not taught enough at music college about taking care of our bodies. Do you want to come get a coffee? Unless you’ve got rehearsals now?”

“Not for an hour, so that’d be great,” Ava said. “But we’ll have to swing by my office to get my coat. Unless you mean from the coffee shop in the foyer?”

“That’s the one,” Nate grinned. “They’re a bit expensive, but with the staff discount it’s not too bad.”

“Sounds great,” Ava said. “And umm, I don’t mean to pry or gossip or anything, but are Sophie and Julia…?”

“Yes, they are,” Nate said. “Julia is a fully qualified physio too, and currently spends about a third of her time doing that with Sophie, and the other two thirds dancing. Gideon is really supportive of the dancers when they start looking towards careers off the stage.”

Like how she helped Sara, Ava thought, but didn’t want to say anything without knowing what Nate knew of Sara’s past. “Well, thank-you for pushing me to see Sophie,” Ava said as they waited for the elevator. “Sara had suggested it, but I think I needed to hear it from another musician.”

“Rip didn’t tell you to go?” Nate asked. “He used to come all the time.”

“Why am I not surprised,” Ava muttered as much to herself as to Nate.

“You’re allowed to ask if Rip was a bit of a prick, to which the answer would be: yes. Yes, he was.”

Ava chuckled despite herself and the elevator arrived.

“Hey,” Nate said as they stepped inside. “I know I’m just the guy in the corner who everyone usually forgets about. But I see things, and I hear a lot. Overhear, technically, but you know what I mean. You’re about to open your third production at the Arts Centre this week, and for what it’s worth, people are starting to talk about you like you’re part of the woodwork.”

“What?”

“Oh, that’s a good thing, Ava. People like how you’re working with the orchestra. And what I understand about you and Sara Lance sounds like a very good thing too,” Nate said with a cheeky smile.

Ava pursed her lips to try and hide a smirk. “Yeah,” she said as the elevator came to a halt and they stepped out. “Sara is most definitely good.”

…

After a very busy week of rehearsals, performances, and opening the latest opera production, Sara and Ava were grateful for the day off. The weather outside was a fairly typical cold, misty early-March day, forcing them to stay in, but neither complained, as it made the atmosphere inside Ava’s apartment all cosier.

“I wish we could do this everyday,” Sara said as they settled on Ava’s couch after a late breakfast, Kitty Parker loafing on the armrest beside Ava.

“You’d miss your job after a week or two,” Ava said, turning on the TV and navigating to Netflix.

“True,” Sara said, “But it’s still something I should do more often.”

“What, sit around?”

“Yeah. I - ah, I’ve had to learn to be more gentle with myself. Slow down, take care, listen to my body, even though that sounds like some stupid woo-woo nonsense.”

“No it doesn’t,” Ava said.

“It does for a former-ballerina,” Sara said. “I used to have no sympathy for myself or anyone else if they were hurting or tired or sore. It’s possibly why I ended up getting injured all the time. That, combined with a somewhat toxic relationship.”

Ava looked at Sara. “You had a partner?” Ava had heard rumours about some of Sara’s former exploits, but hadn’t realised she’d been in a relationship.

Sara nodded. “The world of ballet is an odd place. The men pretty much have to out themselves as being straight, yet all the women are just presumed to be straight? I presumed I was too until the first time I was in hospital and one of the nurses was super hot and I had a massive ‘oooooh right’ moment before everything sort of fell into place.”

“How old were you?” Ava asked. “If you don’t mind me asking. I mean, I was at college when I figured it out too, so…”

“Twenty-one,” Sara said, “And I don’t mind at all. That first injury was - ok, I guess? It’s common for most dancers to have something go wrong, even at that age, so I wasn’t too concerned. I had just started dancing again when Nyssa and I started going out. Early on, she was just what I needed. I needed the push to get my fitness back and get my head back in the game, but as time went on… she got possessive and I kept getting hurt. She’d baby me and nurse me to start with, then push me so hard to get back on stage. She’d get jealous if I went down to Star City to see my family, or if they came up to National City to see me perform, especially if I caught up with them without her. She’d fly into these jealous rages, saying I didn’t love her and I didn’t care and she did everything for me and had no one but me but I didn’t really care about her, all of which was untrue. She has a massive family in England and China and other places, just not in California. But then she’d flick the switch again, and be all kind and loving.”

“That’s awful and sounds really difficult,” Ava said.

Sara shrugged. “I probably wasn’t always a great girlfriend then either. That last time I got injured… I knew I went back too soon. I knew I wasn’t ready, I could feel it. Occasionally I wonder what would have happened if I’d waited a few more weeks, or a few more months, just taken my time and worked my way back slowly. After I told her I’d spoken to the Artist Director and we’d decided it was best I stopped dancing, she flew into another fit. A few weeks later, she took me to the airport for my flight to Metropolis. Technically we were still together, but by then everything had soured too much for us to fix it. I told her if I got the job, I wasn’t coming back, and she told me that any technical role would be ‘unexceptional’ and therefore we were done.”

“That - that all sounds… well, I think you’re exceptional.”

Sara leant into Ava. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to unload all of this onto you.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Ava said, wrapping her arm around Sara’s shoulders and holding onto her. “If you ever need to talk, it’s fine. Is there more to the story?”

“Sort of, but that’s an overview,” Sara said. “I remember the weird mix of fear and relief I felt as I limped onto the plane. Suddenly I had no job and no girlfriend and was leaving my family and everyone I knew on the other side of the country, but I had just a slither of hope; the slimmest chance that everything would work out over here.”

“And it did,” Ava said.

Sara looked up and gave Ava a peck on the lips. “Yes, it did. Time for _Secrets of the Saqqara Tomb_?”

“You’re really keen for this,” Ava said, finding the docu-film they planned to watch.

“My options at college were Theatre Production, Archeology or Pathology. I’m really into this,” Sara grinned.

“Those are three very unrelated options, but I can’t imagine you in anything but theatre blacks, taking charge of the micro-universe backstage.”

“These days, I can’t imagine doing anything else either,” Sara replied, feeling comfortable and content in Ava’s arms.


	10. Chapter 10

Days turns into weeks, and spring soon arrived in Metropolis, with the days getting longer, the trees blossoming and leaves starting to reappear. Time at the Metropolis Arts Centre passed quickly, with a new show opening before or almost as soon as another finished, as well as a never-ending stream of rehearsals, technical matters to attend to, productions meetings and other administrative tasks. Sara and Ava fell into a comfortable pattern, feeling they could have been together for a couple of years, rather than a couple of months. Sara slept over at Ava’s a couple of times a week, and they dined together for a least one meal almost every day in the staff cafeteria, sometimes alone but regularly joined by friends. They went for a walk through the city between rehearsals and shows when time allowed, and tried to have a ‘proper’ date once a week, even if it was just take-away sushi in the park. There were little things that Ava began to notice about Sara which made her happy, like the way Sara always seemed to dance across the stage, whether it was just a small _jeté_ or twirl, the way she seemed to know if Ava was playing a piece too fast or too slow on the piano when they sat together in the warm-up room, and the way her immaculate winged eyeliner was a subtler version of what the dancers wore on stage.

Ava attended ballet class once a week, always sitting with Gideon, and soon getting to know all the dancers and their various musical preferences. She became good friends with Nate, who would tip her off when certain dancers liked specific pieces of music played a certain way. Ava noticed how the tiny changes in how she conducted boosted the moral of the dancers in question, and realised that Gideon noticed too. Ava took Sophie’s advice regarding the stretches before and after performances, and bought herself a spike ball and foam roller, using them at home in the ways Sophie had recommended, feeling all the better for it.

At any other time in her career, Ava would have been making plans for the future, applying for guest or stand-in positions, but despite knowing that her time in Metropolis was limited, she couldn’t bring herself to plan that far ahead. What she had was so good, and she felt so comfortable and at home in the Metropolis Arts Centre, that it seemed that life would go on like this forever. Ava had the occasional pit in her stomach when she remembered that time was ticking by, and soon enough she would have to get her suitcase out and be on the move again, but lazy mornings in Sara’s arms, with Kitty Parker curled at the end of the bed made it all too easy to ignore.

“Why do I get the feeling that today’s rehearsal won’t go as smoothly as most?” Ava asked as she and Sara descended in the elevator to the stage level. They had the dress-and-tech rehearsal for the upcoming production of _La Bohème,_ and a guest director had been employed from interstate for the production.

“Because so far, the director has been ‘difficult’ at best, and a massive jerk at worst,” Sara said, casually holding Ava’s hand.

Ava chuckled. “So long as he keeps his remarks and interruptions aimed at those on the stage, and not off or under it, then it might be ok.”

“Might,” Sara said. “At least we have the ballet this evening, and this run of _Coppélia_ has been brilliant. Gideon is so happy with it.”

“Did she tell you?”

“Yes, but even if she hadn’t, she’d hardly need to. Between the positive press and what’s happening on stage, this is the ballet company’s equivalent of _Chess_.”

“It’s such a fun score too,” Ava said as the elevator doors opened and they stepped into the corridor. It was still fairly quiet, as the majority of the crew, cast and orchestra were yet to arrive. Sara heard Charlie’s wicked laugh come from one of the dressing rooms, and wondered what was going on.

“Plus we’ve had some of the best audiences of the season,” Ava continued. “In a few shows, by the final ten minutes, they’ve been whooping and applauding just about everything that happens on stage. From where I stand I can tell how much energy that gives the dancers, and even though no one can see it, it’s the same for us in the pit.”

“It’s the same backstage too. Both shows on Saturday were insane with all the applause in the third act.”

They reached the door to the side of the stage. Sara rested one hand on the handle, and pulled Ava in close with the other, kissing her on the lips. “I’ll see soonish?”

“I’ll come by side-stage before we start. Better see who’s here early and check that Behrad has the pit set up correctly because it’s a slightly different orchestral configuration compared to _Coppélia.”_

“I’ll see you soon then,” Sara said, reluctantly letting go of Ava’s waist and opening the door side-stage. She went over to her desk, putting her bag underneath and turning on the lamp. A couple of crew members were already there, but the place was mostly deserted. It took Sara a moment before she noticed a familiar figure lurking in the wings.

“Kara Danvers. What brings you here so early?”

Kara, who was understudy for Musetta as well as in the chorus, looked at Sara and pouted.

“What?” Sara asked, giving Kara a hug.

“Last night Lena finalised our 18-night summer trip to Italy,” Kara said.

“And you’re pouting about that?” Sara asked with a laugh. “If whatever she’s planned is that bad, you can stay here and I’ll go with Lena.”

Kara pulled a face. “We’re going to Merano.”

“Ha! I mean - nah, sorry, that’s funny. That’s why you’re pouting?” Sara laughed.

Kara pretended to be hurt. “It’s clichéd. It’s a song from the show!”

“It’s romantic. And what does it matter? You weren’t even in that scene or that whole Act, for that matter.”

“It’s still… I don’t know.”

“Would you care you were going to Paris? The whole of _La Bohème_ is set there. And for what it’s worth, I’ve googled Merano out of curiosity, and if Ava said she was taking me there, I would not complain,” Sara said.

“I know, I’m being spoilt,” Kara said, still feeling a little uncomfortable, worried that people would think she and Lena were silly or strange. “But what do I tell people if they ask?”

“Just say you’re going to the Italian Alps,” Sara said. “Where else are you going?”

“We’re starting in Milan, then going to Lake Como. Then Lena insisted we hire a fancy convertible car and drive to Merano, but she will be the one driving as there is no way I am navigating hairpin-turns and all that. After Merano we’ll catch the train to Venice.”

“That sounds amazing,” Sara said. “You’ll love it once you’re there. I’m still trying to convince Ava that we should go to Aruba for a week. I think she wants to go to Newfoundland or Iceland or Greenland or somewhere cold and remote. She said we were too late to book for any of the big classical festivals in Europe this year.”

“So it’s plaid and beanies and whale-watching, or cocktails on the beach at a fancy resort?”

“Exactly,” Sara chuckled. “We’ll figure something out. Sorry to have to leave you, but even from here I can see that Mick and Ray are having some sort of issue that they’re hoping I won’t notice, but I have, and now I feel like I need to go and sort it out.”

“I should start getting ready,” Kara said. “If it’s quiet, I’ll be able to get Zari to help me with my wig.”

“I can’t wait to see you as a ‘working girl’,” Sara teased.

Kara pulled a face and Sara winked, crossing the stage to set Ray and Mick straight.

The rehearsal went smoother than anticipated, and everyone was in very high spirits when it ended. Sara tidied up her desk as the crew milled about, slowly getting things into position for the evening’s ballet performance.

“Well, that went well,” Ava said, appearing behind Sara.

“That it did,” Sara said, looking at her girlfriend, Ava’s cheeks slightly flushed from the exertion of conducting a two-hour, four-act opera. “So, time for dinner? Drinks? Should we just get straight to it?” she asked, placing her hands on Ava’s hips.

“Woah, woah, woah! What did we say about professional boundaries?”

“Sorry,” Sara said, looking anything but.

Ava giggled and took Sara’s hand. “We’ve got a couple of hours until performance time,” she said, leading Sara away from the stage. “Plenty of time to eat. But you don’t need to do anything here?”

“Eh,” Sara said, taking Ava by the hand as she glanced over at Cisco who was having issues with one of the fold-back speakers, a quick-change costume which someone had dumped in the corner which Charlie would eventually need to know about, and Mick and Ray talking in such a way that made Sara assume that despite her earlier efforts whatever their true issues had been were far from resolved. “Sometimes they need the opportunity to find their own feet. And sometimes we need to congratulate ourselves on a job well done,” Sara said, biting her lip in a vain attempt to hide her smirk, leading a willing Ava out into the corridor towards her dressing room.

…

Ava was in the habit of never checking her work emails until she arrived at the theatre. Sitting in her small, infrequently used office, she waited for her computer to start up, constantly checking the time, knowing that if she lost herself in admin work she would end up being late for production meeting. Once everything had started up, much to Ava’s surprise, she saw an email from Rip Hunter. She hadn’t heard from him since he’d left Metropolis back in January, though a few of the orchestra members occasionally mentioned bits and pieces of his adventures abroad. As Ava scanned through the email, she felt her spirits begin to fall. She went back to the start and read over it properly, her stomach tightened and she felt ill. Ava closed her eyes, all her old insecurities flooding her mind. She put up all her mental walls before closing her emails, squaring her shoulders and making her way to the production meeting.

“Why did we have to have a production meeting on a rehearsal _and_ show day?” Sara grumbled as she and Ava stood in the elevator as it took them down to the theatre level. “That is going to make today a thirteen-hour day. Thirteen hours! At least tomorrow is one show only, but then Saturday is two, one Sunday, and finally Monday off.”

“Mm,” Ava said.

“You get Monday off too,” Sara said, bumping her shoulder against Ava’s as the elevator came to a halt and the doors opened. “I can think of three debatable-quality films on Netflix I wouldn’t mind watching. There’s a new burger place up the other end of town that might be nice to go to for lunch, especially since it almost couldn’t be further from the theatre but still in Metropolis if it tried.”

“I can’t do this,” Ava said, stepping out into the corridor.

“What? Rehearsal? Are you feeling well?” Sara asked, having noticed that Ava had been particularly quiet during production meeting.

“With you,” Ava said, hating herself for what she felt was vital to do next.

“Do what?” Sara asked, confused. “Something on Monday?”

“This. Us.”

“What? Why not?” Sara asked. “You were pretty capable of doing ‘us’ last night.”

“Because it’s not professional,” Ava said, trying to keep her expression neutral, knowing that if she cried in front of Sara, she’d cave in.

“Really?” Sara said, somewhat taken aback. “That’s it? Ava, there’s no conflict of interest, we’re fairly equally ranked, neither of us reports to the other. We’ve talked about this. It - it’s not an issue.”

“I cannot be in a relationship with the Stage Manager.”

“What does that even mean?” Sara asked, feeling worried. “Ava, this doesn’t make any sense. I - if I… I don’t understand.”

“It’s just unprofessional.”

“No, babe, that - what’s going on?” Sara asked. “Please talk to me. ‘Unprofessional’ is not a reason to break this off.”

“It is specifically a reason. Now, you need to go a do your job, giving the half-hour call until rehearsal starts.” Ava turned on her heel and marched off in direction of the pit, leaving Sara along in the hallway.

“Oi, boss, we starting at 11:30, yeah? Sara?”

Sara turned and looked at Charlie. “How long have you been there.”

“Two seconds,” Charlie said. “We are starting at half-eleven, yeah?”

“Yes,” Sara said. “I’m going to make the announcement now.”

“You ok?”

“I don’t know,” Sara muttered. She wanted to cry, to race after Ava and force her to talk, but she knew Ava well enough to know that wouldn’t achieve anything. “I think Ava just broke up with me.”

“What, seriously? Why, what happened?”

“I don’t know,” Sara said, feeling perplexed and downcast. “She said us being together was ‘unprofessional’, whatever that’s supposed to mean.”

“That’s a bullshit reason if I’ve ever heard one. It’s not like one of you is the other’s boss or anything.”

“I said that.”

“Do you think it’s because she’s on a short-term contract?” Charlie asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Want me to poke around?”

“Be subtle,” Sara said, “I don’t need the whole theatre to know what’s going on.”

“Yeah, of course,” Charlie said. “But first, come here. You look like you need a hug, then the show must on.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you so much everyone for all the comments and kudos, it really means a lot :)

Zari boarded the usual carriage on the train where she and Sara met on their way to work. The relatively quiet mid-afternoon train meant that they always got a seat, which one of the perks of working peculiar hours.

“How are you?” Zari asked, giving Sara a hug.

“All right,” Sara said, not entirely convincingly.

“Get much sleep?”

“Yeah, actually. Once I got to sleep,” Sara said. She’d laid awake for a lot of the night, going over every conversation and every interaction she and Ava had had recently, analysing anything and everything that might have caused Ava to break off their relationship for reasons of being ‘unprofessional’.

“And what time was that?”

“Later than usual,” Sara said. “I think, I - I was thinking a lot, and I don’t think this is about me. I think when Ava panics about something, she runs away. She puts on her armour and just…” Sara sighed. It had been in the early hours of the morning when she’d realised that Ava had acted in a similar way when they’d first started dating, when she’d panicked and ran away when Sara had first held her hand in the theatre.

“Have you messaged her?” Zari asked.

Sara shook her head. “Again, what would I say? I don’t think getting all emotional would help right now. But if she really doesn’t want this…”

“No,” Zari said, “I think you’re right. She’s trying to protect either you or herself by pushing you away, but I’ve seen you guys, everyone has seen you guys, and there’s no way she doesn’t care about you.”

Sara nodded sadly. “I hope so. Because otherwise it would suck to realise that I’m kind of in love with her.”

“Have you told her?”

“Hell no.”

Zari shrugged. “Well, it could either make everything better or no different at all, so…?”

“Have you told Charlie?”

“Hell no,” Zari replied.

Sara laughed.

Once they arrived, Zari went straight to the theatre, while Sara went via her favourite sushi place which she had introduced Ava to. As Sara tucked the take-away sushi box into her bag and walked back to the Arts Centre, she couldn’t help but think what a lovely evening it was, with a slight breeze and not a cloud in the sky, the afternoon sun given a golden glow to Metropolis. A small part of her wished that the setting wasn’t so romantic, but the hopeless romantic she generally kept locked away deep inside told her it was a sign that she and Ava could work whatever this was it out, and everything would be all right.

As she crossed the Arts Centre foyer to the elevator, Sara spotted Mona in the box office, but purposefully avoided eye-contact, not knowing what Mona knew, and not wanting to enter into a conversation with her at the moment. Despite feeling a little bit mean about this, Sara didn’t feel at all mean when she sighed and rolled her eyes as the elevator doors opened revealing Gary standing there, his viola draped over his shoulder and score tucked under his arm.

Sara stepped into the elevator gritting her teeth as the doors closed.

“Oh my gosh, Sara, hi. Hi. I’m so sorry. I heard about - ”

“Not now, Gary, please,” Sara said.

“You guys can’t break up! I was shipping you so hard,” whined Gary.

“Gary…”

“It’s just that I - ”

“Gary! Just - we had a disagreement, ok? But it’s fine. Everything is fine.”

“Oh, really? Well, that’s a relief because in rehearsal this afternoon - ”

The elevator doors opened and Sara marched out before she could hear what had happened, preferring not to know. Sara went straight to Ava’s favourite warm-up room, hoping she’d be there, feeling somewhat anxious when she faintly heard the piano playing through the sound-proofed walls. Sara knocked and opened the door without waiting for a response. Ava stopped playing and Sara took the sushi out of her bag.

“Thought you’d probably be hungry,” Sara said, placing the sushi box on top of the piano. “Just - well, I…” Sara wished she was better prepared. She had no idea what she wanted to say to Ava, who just sat staring at her sheet music without acknowledging Sara’s presence any further than having stopped playing.

“If you need anything, you know where to find me,” Sara said and swallowed, leaving without looking back.

Ava quickly spun around, tears pricking her eyes, just as the door clicked shut, and cursed herself for not having said anything to Sara. Her eyes fell on the box of her favourite sushi sitting on top of the piano. Ava covered her face with her hand and cried.

…

After the evening performance, Ava left the theatre as soon as she could, grateful to go back home. She dragged herself into her apartment, flicked on the light, closed the door with her foot, dumped her bag and suit bag on the floor and collapsed onto the couch. She didn’t care if the contents of the suit bag got crushed or crumpled, it all had to go to the dry cleaners anyway. The performance had been fine, but whenever Ava wasn’t completely immersed in music and allowed her mental shields to drop, she felt hollow and desperately sad.

Kitty Parker trotted in from the bedroom, her eyes narrowing as they adjusted to the light. She jumped up onto the back of couch and head-butted Ava, welcoming her home and asking for dinner.

“Hello, Kitty Parker,” Ava said, reaching up to pat Kitty’s soft head.

Kitty Parker nuzzled into Ava’s hand. Ava scooped her up and hugged her.

“I think I’ve screwed everything up,” Ava said, hot tears in her eyes. Just as she’d started to relax and really be herself at the Metropolis Arts Centre, she felt forced to put her guard back up. And then Sara had to be all caring and bring Ava something to eat, as though she had known that Ava had skipped lunch and was planning to skip dinner too. Ava had eaten the sushi alone in her dressing room, knowing she wouldn’t make it through the performance without some sustenance. “I know I should just talk to Sara, but I - it… why do I just want to run away but I… stupid Rip. Stupid men. I just - I…” Ava hugged Kitty Parker as tightly as she dared, grateful that the cat appreciated the attention and seemed to know that Ava was in desperate need of a hug.

Ava let a couple of tears escape before she sniffed and set Kitty Parker down on the couch beside her. Kitty jumped down and trotted to the pantry. Ava wiped her eyes on her sleeve and pried herself off the couch, wishing she didn’t feel like such a failure and so completely inadequate.

…

After the Saturday matinee, Sara, Charlie and Zari sat at their usual table in the cafeteria having an early dinner. Charlie and Zari chatted away like usual, but Sara was fairly quiet. The matinee had gone as well as always, but Sara had almost felt sad watching Ava’s beautiful, lyrical conducting in the small screen beside her desk, knowing that even though Ava was hurting, she could and did turn up, lose herself in the music and give it 100%.

“I solved the mystery!” Behrad said, appearing suddenly and making the women jump.

“Behrad!” Zari exclaimed. “Don’t sneak up on people!”

“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to,” Behrad said, sitting in one of the empty seats. “It’s a bit of a bombshell, but it’s super easy to get the orchestra talking. They love to talk. You ready?”

“What’s happened?” Sara asked.

“Rip Hunter’s happened, of course,” Behrad said, excited at being the one with the news.

“What do you mean?” Zari asked.

“It hasn’t officially been announced yet, but they, the musicians, reckon on the weekend, it’ll be announced that Rip has a permanent position at the ENB. That means - ”

“The chief conductor role here is officially up for grabs.”

“Exactly,” Behrad said. “So, either Ava thinks she’s got it in the bag, but doesn’t want any ties to Sara to possibly be used as some sort of gay nepotism or something, or she doesn’t think she will get it, or she doesn’t want it and already has plans to go somewhere else, or maybe she doesn’t have any other plans and is worried about that, or - ”

Sara stood up. “Behrad, I owe you a non-alcoholic beverage of your choice.”

“You’re going to talk to Ava?” Charlie asked.

“I’m going to talk to Ava,” Sara said.

…

Ava ignored the knock at her office door, focussing instead on the score in front of her, penciling in the bowing from the score the concertmaster had given her, and the corresponding lighting cues from the script on computer screen sent by Ray. She had retreated to her office after the performance to stop the musicians from being able to find as easily. To Ava’s surprise, whoever it was knocked again instead of letting themselves in the way everyone seemed to around here.

“Ava? Can I come in? I know you’re there because the light is on and you’re pedantic about turning the light off when you leave your office.”

“The door isn’t locked,” Ava said stiffly, wishing Sara could just leave her alone.

Sara opened the door and entered, gently closing the door behind herself. “We have to talk.”

“About the matinee or tonight’s show? Because if it’s regarding anything else, I’m busy.”

“You know what, and I - I still don’t fully understand why you tried to break things off with me the other day, but if you don’t think the rumour mill around here isn’t already in full swing, then you are very mistaken.”

Ava looked at Sara, her eyes wide. “What have you heard?”

“That Rip got a permanent gig at the ENB, making the chief conductor position here is officially up for grabs.”

Ava sighed and nodded, her shoulders slumped. “I spoke to Wilbur Bennett himself this morning. I’ve been here since eight. Well, he did the speaking, I did the sitting and nodding. Apparently there’s some get-out-of-jail clause that means they can advertise for a new chief conductor and bring them on board as soon as they’re appointed, thereby leaving me in the cold. I - I had a feeling that was the case and Rip implied as much in his email the other day. And, umm…”

Sara pulled the armchair over to Ava’s desk and sat down in front of her, taking Ava’s hands. Officially Ava’s contract went to the end of season gala the weekend before the 4th July, and the following weekend the _Chess_ reprise was scheduled to start, but it didn’t surprise Sara that this clause existed. “You could have told me,” Sara said gently.

Ava shook her head. “This morning Bennett, he - he didn’t say anything outright, but he… implied that you and me being together was… wasn’t… professional, just like Rip said…”

“Fuck Wilbur Bennett. Ava, listen to me, everyone knows and no one cares. Bennett’s probably just pissed because he was the last to know, sitting in his ivory tower without a decent gossip network. Also, he’s oddly homophobic for a guy who works in what is very well known to be the gayest industry.”

Ava sniffed and nodded. “Plus Rip sent me an email the other day before I… Bennett must have known Rip had already been in contact with me.”

“What did Rip say?” Sara asked.

“A whole lot of stuff about how filling in is all very nice, but a major city’s major opera house is never going to take on a female conductor full-time. He said I’ve been a nice publicity-stunt, and now I should go back to general guest conducting and filling-in, or conducting house-orchestras in Hollywood.”

“Fuck that.”

“He didn’t word it quite like that,” Ava said, unable to meet Sara’s eyes, “But reading between the lines… well, you know. And he said some not very nice things about you. That you’re not good enough for me. I - I don’t think that. You know I think you’re wonderful and…”

“Why did you push me away?” Sara asked gently, squeezing Ava’s hands. “If you’re worried about something or… I don’t know, I want to know about these things, babe, even if I can’t directly help. I’m on your side, Ava. I’m always on your side.”

Ava nodded sadly. “I’m sorry. I just - when it gets too much I retreat to my corner. Alone.”

“It’s ok to go to your corner,” Sara said with a small smile. “Just let me come with you. Ava, I have faith in you, and your abilities. So have you got your resume ready?”

“What?”

“To apply for the chief conductor role.”

“I - I don’t know…”

“Why not?”

Ava shrugged. “Not many women with permanent conducting positions, and only one other with a permanent role with a ballet company in the world, and this is ballet _and_ opera. Rip wasn’t wrong about what he said about me…”

“If whatever shit he said about me was wrong, then the same goes for what he said about you,” Sara said. “And it is crazy that there’s aren’t more women in top jobs. So what if there aren’t many, become one of them. At least apply. The orchestra respond amazingly to you, anyone can hear the difference between the sound you get out of them compared to what Rip ever got.”

“But now Rip has the ENB,” Ava said, unable to meet Sara’s eye.

“So? Work here for a few years, then leap-frog him, all the way to the Met or Royal Opera House.”

“In nearly 300 years, the Royal Opera House has had one female conductor. One. And she was guest conducting.”

“Wait, that’s a gig you really want?” Sara asked.

“Of course it is,” Ava said with a small shrug. “It’s the ROH.”

“Well then, Ava Sharpe, looks like you’re on track to one day principle-conduct at the ROH, so long as you apply for the chief conductor job here. Naturally Gideon’s contacts will help get you a guest role there first, but that’s what friends are for.”

“But Bennett doesn’t want me,” Ava muttered, hope swirling with anxiety inside of her. “He’s happy to have a woman as a novelty, but he doesn’t want me permanently.”

“Well, that’s too bad for Bennett, isn’t it? Gideon wants you. She doesn’t necessarily say it, but I can see how happy she is that you’ve taken the time to really get to know the dancers and the ballet world, especially as that wasn’t something you were very familiar with. Hank Henshaw is one of the best baritones in the country and he says in his very loud voice how much he likes working with you, not to mention Barry and Kara and Sam and Andrea and the rest of the opera company. All the crew like you, and you’ve got all of the orchestra wrapped around your little finger. Ava, if you want this, then everyone is behind you.”

“Really?” Ava asked, sceptically, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Really,” Sara said. “If you want this, we will back you.”

“I want this,” Ava said, squeezing Sara’s hands and finally meeting her eye. “All of it.”

Sara grinned and leant forward, kissing Ava on the lips. “I want this too, Ava Sharpe, future Chief Conductor of the Metropolis Opera and Ballet Orchestra.”


	12. Chapter 12

Ava looked at herself in the mirror, straightening her blazer, unbuttoning it, buttoning it again, pulling it down to straighten it out once more.

“Knock, knock? Nearly ready?” Sara called, knocking on Ava’s dressing-room door.

“Shouldn’t you be side-stage?”

“I had to come check on my lady,” Sara said, opening the door. She looked Ava up and down, barely disguising the lustful look creeping over her.

“Do I look ok? Is it too much?” Ava asked. "Should I just tie my hair up? I thought about wearing heels, but then my head might be obstructing the view of the audience in the first few rows and I - ”

“You look perfect,” Sara said, taking Ava’s hands and giving her a kiss on the lips. Ava was dressed in her perfectly cut and tailored suit, with a black silk shirt, and patent black dress-shoes. She was wearing a little bit of make-up, and whereas she usually wore her hair up while conducting, tonight it was out in long, lose curls.

“I’m so nervous,” Ava said.

Sara squeezed her hands. “You’re going to go out there, and give an amazing performance, just like you have done during every show and every rehearsal since January. The audience will love it, and they’ll leave saying ‘wow, that was the best performance of end of season gala I’ve ever seen!’ and then go and tell all their friends what they’re missing out on, because tomorrow night’s show is completely sold out too. Then we’ll go to the function and celebrate, then go back to your place, collapse into bed and in the morning we can…”

“You forgot the bit in the middle where it will be announced during the curtain call that I will be taking the role of Music Director and Chief Conductor of the Metropolis Opera and Ballet Orchestra effective immediately,” Ava said, the words all coming out at once as nerves almost got the better of her. “I’m the first woman in the role. It’s my first permanent job. No more filling-in, or conductor-for-hire, or well - I can still do guest jobs, probably only during the off season. Oh my gosh. What if I’m invited to conduct at the Proms? That would be during the off-season and they often invite conductors from opera houses to conduct and - ”

“One performance at a time, babe,” Sara grinned.

“There’s so many pieces in the gala I’ve never conducted before. Sure there’s a couple I could do with my eyes closed and one hand tied behind my back, but most of it…”

“You have been conducting all of it in rehearsal for the past week or so, and yesterday’s full tech-and-dress sounded phenomenal. Trust me, Ava, everything will be fine,” Sara said, now all too aware of Ava’s need for reassurance and the occasional pep-talk. “Gideon will be the one to make the announcement, since Bennett has already taken off on his annual sojourn to the Caribbean and frankly, he can stay there. Metropolis is going to love you. I love you.”

“My parents are here.”

“And they love you too.”

“No, they’re right here,” Ava said, taking Sara’s shoulders and turning her around.

“Oh. Hi Pam. Hi Randy. I better go and - do my job,” Sara said, not sure how much Ava’s parents had heard. Sara had seen them a couple of time via Facetime before meeting them in person when they’d arrived in Metropolis two days ago.

“Lovely to see you, Sara,” Pam said, wearing a long evening gown, while Randy stood beside her in a business suit.

“Yeah, you too. It’s really great you could come,” Sara said, knowing how much it meant to Ava that her parents had crossed the country for this.

“Oh, we weren’t going to miss an occasion like this,” Pam said. “A nice young man showed us to Ava’s dressing room. We just wanted to see our little girl before the big show. I hope that’s ok, darling?”

“It’s fine,” Ava said, still feeling tense. “Was it Behrad? It was probably Behrad. He - he knew you were coming, so that’s fine. But Sara, you should…”

“Oh, I really should,” Sara said, looking the time on her watch. “I really, really need to go. I’ll see you all later.”

“See you later on, Sara,” Randy said.

“Bye, honey,” Ava said.

Sara gave Ava a peck on the cheek. “Break a leg.”

…

Ava was almost worried sick until the moment the lights went down, a hush came over the audience and she picked up her baton. From that moment until interval, nothing mattered but the show and the music. She had complete faith in Sara sitting side-stage, calling all the shots, faith in the orchestra, _her_ orchestra, that they would follow her every gesture, speeding up or slowing down as Ava deemed necessary as she watched and judged the singers or dancers on stage. Interval came before Ava knew it and she was buzzing. She shook hands with the concertmaster and other section leaders before heading out of the pit to get a refreshment and sit down for a moment before doing it all again in Act Two.

“Flowers for Ms Sharpe?”

“Huh?” Ava turned around and saw Sara standing at the door with a large box of flowers. It was rare for Sara to leave side-stage during interval as there was something happening, but tonight was a special occasion.

“Don’t worry, they’re not from me. I bought sexy lingerie which I’m wearing under my un-sexy jeans and top. Wanna see?”

Ava laughed and pushed the door shut. “I have another whole Act to conduct before I can let myself go down that train of thought,” Ava said. “Not to mention the post-gala function.”

“Yeah, technically they’re to wear under my dress for that. Oh well, I guess all good things are worth waiting for,” Sara smirked.

“Do you want to put the flowers down?” Ava asked, needing to change the subject.

“I found Behrad wandering around with them,” Sara said, putting the flowers down. “I guess word has gotten out.”

Ava looked at the tag. “LuthorCorp.”

“Well, they are one of our largest donors, so word is bound to leak. Lena is here tonight, no doubt eagerly awaiting Kara’s solo in the second act.”

Ava nodded. She was still buzzing from the first act, and didn’t care any more about who was or wasn’t in the audience. Having Sara working alongside her, her parents in the audience, and the music to lose herself in was everything she needed.

“That was a superlative first act, babe,” Sara said, wrapping her arms around Ava’s neck while Ava placed her hands on Sara’s waist.

“The dancing looked perfect. Gideon will be thrilled.”

“She is. She was lurking side-stage when I came down here. And I must say that the orchestra was sounding sublime. I can’t wait to watch what I can of Act Two from the wings,” Sara said. “Speaking of, I really should get back there as the show is about to re-start, and I’m sure you’re needed in the pit.”

“Yeah, I - thank-you,” Ava breathed, giving Sara a kiss. Sara leant in and kissed her with enthusiasm. The next moment, Ava had lifted Sara onto the dressing table, Sara wrapping her legs around Ava’s waist.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your five-minute warning before the beginning of Act Two. Five minute warning,” Gideon’s dulcet tones came over the intercom.

“Oh, shit,” Sara said, pulling away from Ava and looking at her watch. It was Sara’s to do the announcements, and she had no doubt that Gideon knew exactly where she was. “I am never going to hear the end of this.”

“Go! Run!” Ava laughed. “Gideon does have an excellent voice for it though.”

Sara glanced back with a grin before she raced to the stage, smiling all the while.

“Well, well, well, look who decided to show up,” Kara said with a smirk, waiting side-stage as her solo was the second number of Act Two. “Is that lipstick? Since when did you wear that shade of lipstick?”

“Shut-up,” Sara said, giving Kara a playful shove before sitting down in her chair and putting on her cans, ready to start Act Two.

…

At the end of the performance, once she had taken a bow in the pit, Ava quickly shook hands with the section leaders and hurried side-stage with the final waltz still echoing in her mind. Sara was standing at her desk, and as Ava passed they gave one another a low high-five. Ava looked back and grinned at Sara who winked while Ava waited in the wings for a moment before getting the all-clear to go on stage to take her bow. As always, the audience was ecstatic and extremely generous in their applause. A hush came over the audience as Gideon walked on stage with a microphone in hand.

“Thank-you, thank-you everyone,” Gideon said as they audience fell silent. “I think we can all agree that that was a wonderful gala performance by the Metropolis Opera and Metropolis Ballet Company.” Gideon paused while the crowd cheered and clapped. “And of course the Metropolis Opera and Ballet Orchestra, under the baton of Maestro Ava Sharpe.” Another pause while there was further acclaim from the audience.

“As you are likely aware, our beloved orchestra has been under Ms Sharpe’s care and direction since the beginning of the year. It is with great pleasure that I am to announce, effective immediately, that Ms Sharpe takes up the role of Music Director and Chief Conductor of the Metropolis Opera and Ballet Orchestra. We could not be happier to have her on board in a permanent capacity, and if second half of this season is anything to go by since the orchestra has been under her baton, we cannot wait to see the heights to which she takes our great orchestra and house companies in the future.”

Ava stepped forward and gave Gideon an air kiss on each cheek while the audience applauded. Leading soprano Andrea Rojas stepped on stage, carrying a massive bouquet of flowers, which she gave to Ava along with the customary air kisses. Ava then turned to the audience and curtsied before stepping back in line with Gideon and the applauding cast members. She glanced side-stage to see Sara standing and applauding at her desk. Ava grinned.

Half an hour later, Ava was finally finishing up in her dressing room. A number of well-wishes had dropped by, including her parents, and Ava had smiled and spoken to them all, though all she had really want to do was sit down, have a big drink of cold water, and go through her usual post-performance exercises to stretch out her shoulders, back and neck.

“Hey, babe, you nearly ready to go?” Sara asked.

“One sec,” Ava said, rummaging through her bag for mints. “You all done?”

“Yeah, galas are easy to bump-out. Very little in terms of set. We’ll fix up the lights next week before the _Chess_ tech-and-dress,” Sara said. Even though they had performed _Chess_ that season, it had been almost six months ago, and in production meeting it had been decided to treat the encore season as a they would any other new performance, with all the standard rehearsals.

“Yeah, you - oh, wow. Sara,” Ava said, her eyes wide as she finally looked up at her girlfriend in a floor-length red satin dress with her hair in a formal up-do, and false eyelashes and red lipstick completing the look. “Wow.”

“You like it?” Sara asked, glad to have surprised Ava even though Ava knew she’d be changing.

“Yes,” Ava breathed, taking in the sight. “You look - you look amazing, babe.”

“I figured you’d be in black, and black and red go well together, and…”

“I did put on a clean dress-shirt,” Ava said, still unable to take her eyes off Sara. “You - I didn’t realise that… should I…?”

“Dress shirt and trousers are fine, babe,” Sara said, noticing that Ava had changed into heels. “Black jeans and a ponytail, less so.”

“Did Zari do your hair and make-up?” Ava asked.

“It took her a frighteningly quick amount of time,” Sara said. “Well, if you’re ready, we should probably head up to the function room.”

“Yep,” Ava said, quickly looking around her dressing room while she shrugged on her suit jacket. “All good.”

Sara stepped out into the corridor, allowing Ava to turn off the lights and close the door. Sara then took Ava’s hand as they made their way towards the elevator. The corridors were quiet, since the cast, orchestra and rest of the crew had freshened up and headed to the function room as quickly as they could.

“The gala went really well,” Sara said. “I’m glad we get to do it all again tomorrow.”

“Me too,” Ava said with a smile. “Are you sure what I’m wearing is ok? I don’t want to be underdressed and I did put on more lipstick but - ”

“It’s fine!” Sara laughed. “I promise. You look beautiful.”

“Thank-you,” Ava said. “For everything. I can never thank you enough.”

“I can think of one way you can thank me,” Sara said with a smirk. “But you’re right. We do make a good team, on and off the stage.”

“The show doesn’t start until you cue the lights and I raise my baton.”

“We’re co-captains.”

“Pas de deux partners,” Ava said.

“A duet.”

“Technically, it would be a duo, as a duet is the piece played by a duo, but…”

Sara laughed at Ava calling her out on a musical technicality, swinging their hands as they walked through the rabbit warren of corridors towards the elevator. “Gosh, I love you.”

Ava stopped walking, forcing Sara to stop beside her. “I love you too,” she said, pulling Sara in for a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End!
> 
> Thank-you once again to everyone for reading, and all the kudos and comments. It really means a lot, and I hope you enjoyed this story :)


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